Recompense
by Kenya Starflight
Summary: Part III of the Reborn trilogy. Luke and Vader must face Emperor Palpatine and Darth Kain one more time, while the Rebellion engages in a final showdown with the Empire.
1. Chapter 1

Reborn 

**Part III – Recompense**

**Kenya Starflight**

**Rated PG for violence**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the third installment of the "Reborn" trilogy, which began with "Innocence" and was continued in "Experience." Unless you've at least read "Experience" you probably won't understand what's going on, but to fully appreciate this story I suggest you read "Innocence" as well.

A very brief recap – in the previous installments, Vader lost his memory and joined the Alliance, befriending Luke, Han, Chewie, and a Fosh medical officer named Forenze in the process. Luke and Vader trained under Yoda together, where they learned of their true relation as father and son. Emperor Palpatine convinced Boba Fett to join the Sith cause as Darth Kain, and they now seek to capture (and in Kain's case, kill) Vader and Luke. Han was captured and is in the possession of Jabba the Hutt. Vader regained his memory but chose to remain with the Alliance. Now Lando, Forenze, Chewie, Leia, Luke, and Vader are on a mission to rescue Han… but Vader has issues of his own to deal with first.

**Chapter 1**

"She died peacefully," the old man said quietly, weathered hands reaching down and absently crumbling the rich black soil that cradled his daughter. "In her sleep, about three-and-a-half years after you left."

Darth Vader and Jobal Naberrie knelt together before the grave marker, silent most of the time, yet speaking volumes nonetheless. Slightly behind the two men stood Padme's younger brother Rio, now grown and a father himself. At the edge of the meadow hovered the regal bulk of Boss Nass, who had no desire to intrude on the human's privacy.

"She told us you'd died," he went on. "We had no idea you'd gone and become… what you are now."

"In a sense, I did die," Vader replied. "When I joined the Sith, I killed the good man she had loved and married." His voice dropped. "And that, in turn, killed her."

Jobal let the soil sift through his fingers. Time had not been gentle with Padme's father. The death of his daughter and wife had weighed heavily upon his heart, and sorrow marked his face in creases and wrinkles. His hair had thinned considerably, and when he walked it was with a painful limp. But his eyes – brown, like Padme's – were as clear as ever, and they shone with fondness now as he recalled the young headstrong senator he called daughter.

It had quite shocked both Jobal and Rio to open the front door of Rio's summer home in the Naboo lake country to find Darth Vader on the other side. Vader had had to talk fast to convince them that he was harmless, and even then they'd been very loath to allow him inside. After all, this was the former right-hand-man of the Emperor and a deadly warrior, even four years after his replacement by Darth Kain.

Until Vader had explained that he had once been Anakin Skywalker… and Jobal's son-in-law.

"If someone had told me all those years ago that my son-in-law would become a homicidal cyborg, I'd've kicked you straight out of my house," Jobal said, smiling a little.

Vader chuckled slightly. "Believe me, I never intended for it to end up like this. I honestly thought we'd get married and live happily ever after."

"I know," Jobal replied softly. "I know."

Rio knelt on his father's other side, not looking at Vader. He'd only been a boy when his sister had announced her illicit marriage to the family, and her death had deeply shaken him. Vader sensed that it would be some time yet before Rio could look at him as something besides the cause of his sister's sorrows.

"She loved you, you know," Rio said at last – rather sullenly, as if he wished it otherwise. "Right up to the very end. She never stopped loving you, even knowing who you were and what you'd done."

That wasn't surprising. Padme had possessed a gentle heart beneath her tough political exterior. And Luke seemed to have inherited that same heart from her.

"If it's any consolation, Mr. Naberrie," Vader said quietly, "I never stopped loving her either."

Jobal's shoulders hunched up as he tried to hold back a sob. "Stang it, Vader – Anakin – whoever you are now – I should hate you for what you did to my daughter… sucking her into a forbidden marriage that ruined her career… leaving her alone and pregnant… forcing her to hide the kids when you went on your Jedi-murdering rampage…" He choked on his grief. "But I can't hate you. She wouldn't want me to. She couldn't stand hatred of any sort."

/Which made my fall all the more tragic/ Vader thought with a pang of guilt.

"I know I shouldn't be angry," Rio mumbled. "But it's so hard not to be. I'm sorry, but I just can't forgive him that easily…"

"Rio, it's all right," Vader told him. "I don't expect to be forgiven right away. And I think there's a difference between hatred and anger. Anger is a reaction, but hatred is a choice." He touched his chest. "And my choice to hate is what transformed me in the first place."

Rio's lips tightened. "I'm going to need some time."

No one said much for a few minutes.

"Her son serves her memory well," Vader said at last.

That made Rio laugh a little. "When all those warnings came from the Empire about a dangerous Rebel named Luke Skywalker on the loose, our entire family had a good laugh. They flashed his name on the holovid, and my wife said 'Hey, isn't that Padme's son?'"

"Last name was a dead giveaway," Jobal added with a chuckle. "Not many Skywalkers out there. We've kept updated on all the kid's escapades since."

"He's a fine young man. I'm sure she'd be very proud of him."

Jobal nodded. "Always wondered where Padme took him. That old man… I think she called him Ben Kenobi… he always hung around our place, especially after the birth… convinced her she should split the twins up for their own safety…"

Vader turned sharply to stare at them, startled. "Twins?"

"Yeah, twins." He arced an eyebrow. "You never found that out?"

He shook his head. This was shocking news, to say the very least! To think that Luke had a twin brother out there somewhere…

"Whatever happened to the other twin?" he inquired. "What was his name? Where did she take him? Is he still alive?"

"It was actually a girl," Jobal explained, looking somewhat crestfallen. "As for the rest of the information, we were hoping you could tell us. We weren't told much of anything after she and Ben took off, not even the names of the babies."

"All we know is that Padme and Ben dropped Luke off on Tatooine to be raised by some relatives of yours," Rio said with a shrug. "Padme went to Alderaan, wrote us saying she'd found some employment in the Royal House of Alderaan… and that was the last we heard for three years. Then she came back without warning, saying that she'd left the girl in the custody of the Organa family so she could visit her family." His voice broke. "She must've known it was coming… she must have… she took so long saying good night…"

"She died that night," Jobal finished gruffly.

Vader was silent, guilt weighing down his stomach. Had he been there for her, she might still be alive. He had to wonder at Obi-wan's audacity, though. He had to know that losing Anakin had been a brutal loss to Padme. But separating her from her child would have broken her heart. No doubt she had been slowly dying from the loss for those three years.

"Lost my wife a few months later," Jobal went on. "Thought the Organas might contact us, give us an update on the girl, but they never did. Either Padme didn't leave a comm code or they thought it best to cut ties. And after Alderaan was destroyed… we gave her up for dead."

Vader considered that information a moment, gazing at Padme's grave as if his dead wife could provide an answer. Jobal had given him vital clues as to his daughter's identity. If he could piece them together…

"Leia," he breathed. Of course. It should have been obvious from the start. Taken to the Royal House of Alderaan, raised by the Organa family, a politician and advocate of justice like her mother... and, of course, her mother's feisty personality, her activist attitude, even her brown hair and eyes.

"Princess Leia?" gaped Rio. "The senator?"

"The same," Vader replied. "It can be no other. And it pleases me to inform you that she is alive, well, and a leader of the Rebel Alliance."

"Stars!" exclaimed Jobal. "Both her kids in the Rebellion! And here we thought all the Organas were dead!" He grinned brightly. "They sure take after her, don't they?"

"I'm sure both Luke and Leia will be quite surprised to learn they are brother and sister," Vader replied.

"I'll say," Jobal rejoined. "But then, this has been the day for surprises."

"I'd like to meet them someday," said Rio.

"Perhaps that can be arranged," Vader replied.

Rio stood with the aid of a hand on his knee. Jobal attempted, with some difficulty, to rise as well, but it took the aid of his son to get fully to his feet.

"Sure you can't stay for supper?" Jobal asked.

"I am sure," Vader replied, rising. "There are other matters to be settled. I am a Rebel, after all, and we still have a war to fight against the Empire."

Jobal embraced him as if he were one of his own sons. "Take care, my boy. Remember that you always have a place here. You're family now, you know."

A smile formed beneath Vader's mask. "Now I know where Padme's heart came from."

Rio shifted uncomfortably. "Father, we'd better get back to the house. Rabe will be worried sick."

"Oh c'mon, hasn't been that long," Jobal grumbled. "Well, better get going myself, before Rio gets impatient and drags me back. Bring the grandkids next time you come, eh? Been dying to see them."

"You have my solemn vow," Vader replied, bowing slightly.

The two men walked away, arm in arm.

Boss Nass stepped forward and clapped Vader's shoulder with a beefy hand, almost knocking him over. "Wesa been wondering when yousa be back, Ani," he boomed. "Been a longo time, it has."

"Indeed," he agreed. "But I doubt your people would have appreciated a Sith in their midst."

He snarled. "Smart-e of you. Wesa no care about de Empire. Dey tear up de forests to build deir fancy homes, dey blast our people for target practice, and deir mekkanics destroy our sacred places."

"I'm sorry, Nass. I hope to make restitution for that as soon as I can."

Nass smiled. "De Gungans been hoping to find a Rebel someday. De Naboo seems to have forgotten about us. Dey have de Empire now and don't be needing us, eh? But if de Rebels wanted us to join…"

"We'd be most glad for the aid of the Gungan army," Vader replied. Having seen their warriors in action, he could attest to their battle skills.

"Den dat be your restitution," Nass replied, giving him another hard whack. "Tell de Rebel bosses de Gungans wish to join de Alliance. Wesa not too handy with de blasters, but wesa put up a good fight."

"Thank you, Nass. I will let Lady Mothma know."

Nass pulled Vader to his chest in a crushing hug. "Anything to help de children of Queen Amidala. When yousa come back, visit us. De Gungans will always welcome you."

"May the Force be with you, Boss Nass."

Once the Gungan leader had departed, Vader turned back to the grave. A lump gelled in his throat. He'd been warned that coming back to Naboo would cause him great pain, but it had been so worth it. There was no hatred here – some bitter feelings, maybe, but also forgiveness. And perhaps now the wounds he had torn could begin to be healed.

/I love you, Padme/ he thought. /I always loved you, even during my darkest hours. Though at the end I'm sure it didn't show…/ He swallowed hard at the memory of those searing arguments they'd had, her accusations that he'd grown distant and cold, his enraged retorts and even occasional blows…

/I know I hurt you deeply, my love. I know I filled your life with great pain. But I pray that your soul can forgive me for my foolishness. And I pray that I can make restitution for all I have done to your family./

/Thank you, Padme, for the gift of our son and daughter. They have brought me much joy. You would be very proud of them, for they serve your memory well. Please forgive me for abandoning them and you, my angel. I swear I will do all in my power to make amends for the pain I caused the three of you./

A cool wind stirred the trees and seemed to circle him, to brush his mask like a gentle hand, to murmur something he didn't quite catch. For a moment he felt her presence near, glowing, warm, full of peace and light. Then the air settled as suddenly as it had come to life.

She had forgiven him.

Tears flowed down his face. "May the Force be with you, my love."

With great reluctance he left the glade where Padme and her mother were buried. The visit to Naboo had been pleasant enough, but it had to be cut short. The others would be either at Jabba's palace by now or at least en route to it. If he wished to play his role in Han's rescue, he had to leave quickly.

/And I'd never forgive myself if I didn't play some part/ he thought as he picked his way through the marsh where his ship, the modified N-1 starfighter Desert Angel, was parked. After all, it was partially his fault Han was in Jabba's clutches. Emperor Palpatine and Darth Kain had captured the pirate in an insane plot to trap both Vader and Skywalker for their own vile ends, using him and his companions as bait.

Even thinking about that awful day now, almost a year later, brought a shudder of revulsion. It had nearly destroyed him, facing down his old master. Not just physically – though the Emperor had nearly killed him twice, first via Force lightning, then by throwing him out a window. But when the floodgates of his memory had opened, he had nearly drowned in the deluge. A lifetime of remembered agonies and crimes had inudated his mind and soul, and he still hadn't entirely recovered from that vicious onslaught.

The Desert Angel gleamed crimson in the meadow where he had left it. To his great dismay, two Imperial stormtroopers were inspecting the ship, muttering between themselves.

"Never seen anything like it," the first muttered. "Definitely not a Rebel craft, it's too well maintained."

"I thought I saw something like it in the Theed museum," the second noted. "Only it was yellow."

Before Vader could conceal himself, one of the men suddenly turned and saw him.

"Stang!" he hissed, ripping his blaster loose.

Before a shot could be fired off, Vader raised a hand. "There's no need for hostilities."

The other trooper put a hand on his comrade's arm, pushing his weapon down. "There's no need for hostilities," he said dully.

"I'm just passing through."

"He's just passing through," the first trooper mumbled, holstering his weapon.

"Stand aside."

They shuffled aside as he strode forward and climbed into the Angel's cockpit.

"Within five minutes, neither of you are going to remember any of this," he told them. "You'll go back to your commanding officer and tell him you found nothing. Then you'll want to sit down and think long and hard about your lives."

"Yes sir," they both replied.

The bubble-shaped cockpit slid shut, and his astromech chirped indignantly from her socket.

"Be quiet, Midnight," he replied. "I told you I'd be awhile."

She fired off a retort.

"Then next time run a full system check or change the hydraulic fluids. Make yourself useful."

She beeped wearily, with all the resigned patience of a tolerant housewife.

"Stang, you're moody today. Set our course for Tatooine, please. Take the long way. I don't want to risk running into a convoy, especially around Palpatine's vacation retreat."

While she plotted the hyperspace course, he shrugged back into the worn robes that were his disguise for entering Jabba's palace. It had taken almost a year for everyone involved to situate themselves in the proper places. Jabba was a cunning creature, and if anyone moved too quickly or slipped up, he would quickly suspect their true intentions.

He pulled the final piece of his wardrobe from a compartment in the console – a specially designed mask. It had been customized to fit over his own mask without hampering his sight or blocking his air intake. Once he'd pressed it over the durasteel mask and pulled up his hood, he was indistinguishable from the alien race he'd chosen to represent.

The Angel bolted into hyperspace, the stars becoming swaths of light on either side.

/Hold on, Han. We're coming for you./


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Commander Jerjerrod had enough on his plate to deal with – the last thing he needed right now was a visit from Darth Kain.

He couldn't suppress a groan of annoyance as he strode into the main hangar. Why this? Why now? A cranky, homicidal, demanding Sith Lord would only intensify the chaos they'd faced in constructing the second Death Star. Just yesterday a sabaac game between construction crews and stormtroopers during a lunch break had broken out into an angry fight that had left three men dead and a dozen more badly injured. And that was only the latest in lengthy list of delays and disasters – supply shipments that arrived late or not at all, collapsing hallways or machinery that crushed dozens of workers at a time, a rapidly mounting injury rate (no doubt a consequence of rushing the job), an artificial gravity malfunction that had caused untold pandemonium for nearly five hours…

The black-and-chrome oblong of Darth Kain's ship, appropriately dubbed the Slave, touched down with a sigh of its engines. Jerjerrod straightened and pasted on a pleasant expression as the boarding ramp lowered. Wouldn't do to irritate the Sith, would it?

Kain stalked down the ramp, silent as a shadow, his black armor gleaming darkly. His cloak drifted after him like a clinging aura of dark power, and the silver T of his visor glittered like the blade and cross-guards of an ancient broadsword. Even Jerjerrod, Force-blind though he was, could feel the chill touch of the profane energy Kain commanded.

"Lord Kain," he greeted, bowing.

Kain brushed past him as if he didn't exist. Jerjerrod heaved a sigh of relief – Kain was in a remarkably good mood.

"This is most unexpected," he continued, falling into step beside the Sith. "But we are most honored by your presence. To whom do we owe…"

"I haven't much time here," Kain rasped, never breaking his stride. "Don't waste it by lying, Commander."

He swallowed. "Forgive me, my lord."

Kain didn't reply. He didn't even turn to acknowledge the apology. His gaze took in the unfinished hallways as they strode deeper into the bowels of the station.

"Far behind schedule," Kain hissed. "I'm most disappointed."

"My men are working as fast as they can," Jerjerrod protested. /At the expense of their safety/ he wanted to add, but he wisely held his tongue.

"Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate them," Kain purred, hand moving to hover over his lightsaber.

There was a scream from nearby, and both men turned to see a crate of durasteel beams fall from a repulsorsled and crush an unsuspecting TIE pilot. Jerjerrod winced. Why hadn't the stupid clunk-headed clone stepped aside? Workers were beneath the notice of the Sith (unless they were behind schedule, of course), but a dead soldier would definitely annoy him.

"And you aren't bothering with safety straps on the cargo sleds, either," Kain noted.

"My lord, this battle station WILL be completed on schedule," Jerjerrod insisted. "One way or another, it will be completed."

Kain made a disdainful snort. "The Emperor and I don't share your optimistic appraisal of the situation, Commander."

"You're asking the impossible!" Jerjerrod exclaimed through clenched teeth. "I need more men!"

Kain didn't appear to hear the man. He was engrossed in studying the worker crews as they struggled to move the heavy crate and drag the dead pilot away.

Jerjerrod glowered at the back of the Sith's helmet, seething with hatred. Kain couldn't know how much he hated the man, how he loathed having a bounty hunter commanding his every move. How Boba Fett had risen to such a position of power and taken on a Sith title he would never know, but it infuriated him nonetheless. Who was Kain to tell him how to command his men…

"I'm well aware that you military types despise me," Kain replied, as if answering his thoughts. "And it is none of your concern why the Emperor selected me over you. If your inferiority or lack of personnel aboard this station bother you, confront the Emperor when he arrives."

That wiped Jerjerrod's mind clear of any surprise or lingering anger. "The Emperor… he's coming here?"

"Yes," Kain rasped. "Tomorrow. To provide some… motivation. Then there are other matters…" His voice trailed off as he absently flexed his right hand.

Jerjerrod nearly choked. Tomorrow! And they hadn't even gotten the turbolaser to operational status, let alone installed surface cannons!

"We shall double our efforts," he vowed, bowing.

"Your men shall, Commander," Kain snarled. "But they shall carry on without you. Your ineptitude disgusts me."

Terror swelled in Jerjerrod's chest as Kain raised a hand. But the motion only summoned a pair of stormtroopers.

"Take him to the cell blocks," Kain hissed. "He is under arrest for treason."

"Treason?!" he repeated shrilly. "You can't arrest me for treason!"

"Your actions are leaving the Empire's greatest weapon vulnerable to attack by the Rebel Alliance," Kain replied without remorse. "You are clearly abetting their cause. Take this scum away."

Jerjerrod swore and protested loudly, but Kain only spun on his heel and stormed away without a glance backward.

-------

The main gate to Jabba's palace ground slowly open like the maw of a prehistoric beast, allowing the blinding light of the double suns to stream into the dismal corridor. Silhouetted by the brilliant sunlight, a lone robed figure strode into the palace, silent and contemplative. A dark brown hooded robe obscured his face, and beneath the robe a sand-colored tunic and well-worn boots were visible.

Luke Skywalker had heard much about Tatooine's most powerful being, but this marked his first encounter with the crime lord – and his last, however it turned out.

As he made his way down the dim hallway, he reached out with the Force to touch the minds of his friends. Not necessarily to communicate with them, just to ascertain their positions and mental states.

Lando was in place. Excellent. Luke knew little about the former Baron Administrator of Cloud City but had been assured that they could trust the man. At any rate, he seemed helpful enough.

Forenze was in a sour mood. No surprise there. From what Luke could tell, she was hot, tired, irritated with the company the Hutt kept, and beginning to really hate sand. But at least she was where she needed to be.

Chewie was anxious – understandably so. After all, he'd been brought to Jabba's palace as a "captive." He sent a quiet pulse of comfort to the Wookie to boost his confidence a bit.

The droids were intact, he could tell that much. That was one downfall of the Force – he could read a biological mind easily enough, but mechanical minds were another matter entirely. He could safely assume, though, that Artoo was comfortable wherever he was and Threepio was a nervous wreck.

Leia… was Force-strong! He was startled to brush her mind and feel her presence glowing so brightly it nearly blinded him. He hadn't ever sensed that before. Maybe he'd just been used to her presence, and being separated from her for a year called attention to that fact. He touched her again and realized she was very worried. Part of that could be blamed on her concern for Han's welfare, but what else was wrong…

Han! He was conscious! Someone – he guessed Leia – must have jumped the gun and thawed him too early in the plan. At least he seemed to be okay, if somewhat ill from the effects of the carbonite.

Vader…

/It's about time/ Vader told him in response to his inquiry. /You're two days late. We're all worried./

/Sorry, but I got held up during my refueling stop on Ryloth/ Luke replied. /Nothing complicates a simple layover like a revolt./

Vader's mind enfolded his in a mental embrace. /It's good to hear your voice again./

/I missed you/ Luke replied, unconsciously "leaning" into his father's embrace. /What's going on in the palace right now?/

/When you didn't show up on time, Leia decided to free Han and get him to safety. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't listen. Now Jabba has Han imprisoned, and Leia…/ A surge of indignation that nearly bowled Luke over. /Jabba has her chained to his throne like some sort of pet, the scumbag!/

/Whoa, Father, easy. Get any angrier and you'll wake the planet./

/Sorry./ He was silent a moment, and when he spoke again he'd regained his composure. /Having Leia captured does complicate things a bit. Our rescue might not go as smoothly as we planned./

/First we'll take the diplomatic route. Maybe Jabba will negotiate./

/I highly doubt that. Hutts are not famed for their diplomatic skills. You'll most likely have to resort to aggressive negotiations./

/Aggressive negotiations?/

/You know, negotiations with a lightsaber./

Luke nearly burst out laughing, which would not have been a good idea. For two brutish, dim-looking Gamorrean guards had stepped forward and blocked his path with crossed vibroaxes. Luke planted a brief suggestion in each of their minds, and they hurried off squealing, utterly convinced that this man had come specifically to assassinate the pair of them.

/That's edging toward the dark side, isn't it?/

/Don't get hypersensitive over what's too close to the dark side, Father/ Luke suggested. /I'm sure you can call almost all Force use of the dark side if you wanted./

/True, if you put it that way./

There was a shout ahead of him, and a white-skinned Twi-lek ran forward to intercept him, wearing a richly decorated black hooded robe, though his hood was thrown back to display his lekku.

/Bib Fortuna, Jabba's majordomo/ Vader informed Luke. /Plotting to kill Jabba, as are half of Jabba's other employees. Use caution; this man is quite crafty./

"You shouldn't be here!" Fortuna snarled in Huttese, fangs bared. "Get out! Jabba'll have no business with…"

Luke made a small gesture with his hand. "Jabba's expecting me, isn't he?"

Take aback, Fortuna took a cautious minute to reply. "Yes…"

"And you were just going to take me to see him, weren't you?"

Fortuna nodded. "I was just going to take you to see him."

"Thank you," Luke replied with an unrestrained grin.

"You're welcome," the majordomo mumbled, leading Luke into the throne room.

The place stank of stale liquor, hookah smoke, spice fumes, sweaty bodies, and blaster smoke, all intermingled with other foul odors that Luke didn't even try to place. Bodies cluttered the floor, either sleeping or in drunken stupors. An eclectic blend of aliens, obviously the palace band, were slumped over their instruments in a corner. Leia, clad in a revealing slave costume, lay sleeping on a dais beside a scrawny monkey-lizard that stared at Luke alertly. Behind Leia…

/Eww. I didn't realize Hutts were this disgusting close-up./

/He had the Imperial governor of Tatooine in here a few months ago/ Vader said amusedly. /The man had to excuse himself to throw up. Jabba ended up throwing the man to the rancor./

/Oh, so the rumors that he has a pet rancor in his basement are true?/

/Not anymore/ came the cryptic reply.

Before Luke could question further, Threepio, whose gold finish was stained with green slime, spotted Luke from his perch next to Jabba.

"Oh, Master Luke has come to rescue me!" he cried.

That woke up everyone in the throne room – including Jabba. At first glance he appeared to be just a shapeless mass of greenish-tan slime, barely contained by wrinkled, rubbery-looking skin. But a pair of stunted arms that were almost lost in the folds of fat on his chest and belly stirred, and a serpentine tail shifted, nearly knocking the raucously protesting monkey-lizard from his perch. A pair of bulbous yellowy eyes opened – slits at first, then widening with apparent outrage at the sight of Luke.

Luke sketched a polite bow, all the while taking a quick scan of the inhabitants of the throne room. Jabba's hired thugs mainly came in two races – porcine Gamorreans and weathered Weequay. Neither species was renowned for their intellect, but they were tough and took orders without question. Aside from those, he also spotted Rodians, Klatoonians, a sweltering Whiphid, a robed Chivan (hooded robes seemed to be popular among the natives to Tatooine), Grans, Twi'leks, humans, and various other creatures, some he'd only seen in holovids. Smugglers, pirates, slavers, bounty hunters, dancing girls, and hired staff that were little more than indentured servants… a rather unsavory crew in all. Even Tatooine's native tribes made an appearance – Luke spotted three Jawas next to Jabba's throne, and was that a cluster of Tusken Raiders in the corner?

/The Jawas are here for aid in settling a clan dispute, but he's put them to work fanning him in order to humiliate them. Yes, those are Tuskens, and Jabba has ordered them to care for his new pet in exchange for "protection."/

Jabba's wide gash of a mouth opened, and the voice that emerged from his ponderous bulk grated deeply.

"I told you not to admit him!" he thundered in the direction of his majordomo.

"I must be allowed to speak," Luke stated, directing the Force toward the Hutt.

"He must be allowed to speak…" Fortuna agreed, but shut his mouth hurriedly when Jabba grabbed him by the throat.

"You weak-minded fool!" he bellowed. "He's using an old Jedi mind trick!" With a disgusted snarl he flung the majordomo away, and the hapless Twi'lek landed with a discordant crash atop the band's redball organ.

/Okay, so the Force isn't going to work/ Luke thought in frustration.

"I'm here for Captain Solo," he informed Jabba, pulling his hood back. "Also for Leia and the Wookie. You can profit from this or be destroyed."

Jabba sneered at Luke. "Your mind tricks won't work on me, boy."

"Master Luke, you're standing on the…" Threepio began.

Too late Luke saw Jabba's fist slam onto a switch, and the floor beneath his feet dropped away. A Gamorrean bully-boy that had been standing too close to the trap door toppled in after Luke, and the two of them slid down a tunnel that deposited them roughly on a floor thick with dust.

/Luke!/

/I'm fine, Father/ Luke told him, getting to his feet. The chamber he'd landed in was over five meters high and as long as an Imperial shuttle. The only illumination came from a grate through which Jabba and his entourage watched their victim. Bones and animal droppings littered the dirt floor, and claw scars as long as a man was tall criss-crossed the walls.

/Well, this is an improvement to upstairs./

/It won't be for long/ Vader replied.

/So what's he got down here anyway? An acklay?/

/I wish./

/What happened to the rancor anyway?/

A thick durasteel wall shifted upward.

/Oh, so that's what happened./

The Gamorrean shrieked in pure terror.

Out of the shadows came the scaled bulk of a krayt dragon, a horned, barbed, fanged nightmare that practically ruled Tatooine's wild lands. Its enormous black eyes fixed its victims with a ravenous look, and its jaws gaped open slightly in a savage smile, slaver dripping from its lips. Powerful muscles rippled beneath its dusty scaled skin as it stalked forward.

/Jabba forced the Tuskens to capture it and tend to its needs in exchange for "protection"/ Vader explained. /He wanted to see if his rancor could take on a dragon. The rancor lost./

/I gathered that/ Luke replied, catching sight of an enormous pug-nosed skull just behind the reptile.

The Gamorrean squealed again and tried vainly to climb back up the tunnel. Attracted by the thug's movements, the dragon turned to the plump alien with a fascinated gaze. Its neck tensed, it struck with the speed of a crystal snake…

The onlookers cheered as the Gamorrean met his grisly end.

Luke took advantage of the beast's preoccupation to take a Force-boosted leap. He grabbed the grate with both hands and jammed both feet through, hanging on for all he was worth.

"Luke!" Leia cried, reaching over to grab his arm, but Jabba yanked her back savagely.

"Knock him down!" he ordered.

Aurra Sing came to stand over the grate. "Scared of a little lizard, Jedi?" she taunted.

He didn't answer, only searched the grate for a latch or hinges of some kind.

Sing laughed snidely and rammed the butt of her rifle into the grate right over Luke's face. He jerked back involuntarily, lost his grip, and landed right on the dragon's snout.

The dragon gave a squawk of surprise and reached up to claw him off, but Luke rolled forward and down the creature's neck, careful to avoid the bony spines. He dodged the snap of the beast's jaws, leaped to the floor, and charged beneath the dragon's belly.

It must have been a comical sight for the onlookers to watch the terror of Tatooine dance about like a trained Endor pony, snarling madly, trying to get at the Jedi beneath it but never quite reaching him. Luke had to keep moving to ensure his relatively safe position, but at least it kept him out of the dragon's stomach.

/Luke, you're making me very nervous/ Vader told him.

/I'm trying to come up with a workable option!/ Luke replied.

/Hurry! You're fraying my nerves./

At the far end of the room he spotted a switch. Did that control the heavy door that had admitted the beast in the first place? There was only one way to find out.

A skull – probably from a Rodian, judging from the shape – leaped into his hands. Using the Force to ensure his aim, he let it fly toward the switch. The door groaned once, then crashed downward. Luke barely rolled away before the jagged bottom edge of the door slammed into the krayt's shoulders, pinning it to the floor.

The dragon screamed in agony, foreclaws scrabbling in the dust, hindquarters limp and paralyzed. Then its flailing head and neck fell to the floor, and with a snarling sigh it expired. Luke heaved a sigh of his own. Few people ever escaped a krayt alive – he'd just cheated fate yet again.

"No!" howled Jabba, though Luke doubted the Hut had had any true love for his pet. "Bring the Jedi up here! Get Solo and the Wookie! They will all pay for this outrage!"

-------

Vader felt weak with relief at the sight of his son, dusty but alive and unscathed, being pulled from the krayt's lair. He'd been present when the dragon had battled the rancor and could testify of its brute ferocity. That Luke had actually killed the beast was true proof of his talent in the Force.

"Here, take him, you!" one of the guards growled, thrusting Luke at Vader. "Jabba wants him!"

Vader grabbed Luke's arm and pulled him toward the throne room, keeping up the appearance of one of Jabba's underlings. But he did manage to make eye contact with his son, and the young man nodded in understanding.

"How are ya, kid?" asked Han, eyes blank with the hibernation-induced blindness. A Rodian thug and a Weequay hauled the smuggler roughly before Jabba.

"Same as always," Luke replied.

"That bad, huh?" Han asked. "Where's Leia?"

"I'm here," Leia replied.

Jabba jerked on Leia's chain to silence her, shouting angrily in Huttese.

"The Almighty Jabba has ordered you to be terminated immediately," Threepio translated, his quavering voice robbing the statement of much of its force.

"Good, I hate long waits," Han quipped.

A sly smile crossed Jabba's flabby features, and he spoke a little more.

"He commands that you be thrown to the almighty… ulp… Sarlaac," Threepio gulped – well, he couldn't really gulp, but the sound of fright he made couldn't be called much else.

"Doesn't sound so bad," Han remarked with a shrug.

"In his belly," Threepio went on, "you will find a new definition of pain and suffering as you are… slowly digested over a… thousand years."

"On second thought, I'll pass," Han muttered.

"Take them away!" cried Jabba.

"This'll be the last mistake you ever make!" Luke told the Hutt as Vader escorted him out of the throne room. The crowd pressed eagerly around the captives, delighted to witness the execution they had missed earlier.

/Don't get too cocky, Luke/ Vader warned.

/I'll be fine/ Luke assured him. /You concentrate on getting Leia and Forenze out intact. Lando and I'll see to Chewie and Han, and Artoo'll take care of Threepio./

A mental laugh. /I'm sure he will./

/Hey Father, why are you dressed like…/

/No time for that. I'll explain later./


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A herd of wild banthas scrounging for cacti and edible brush scattered, honking irritably, as Jabba's majestic sail barge roared through their grazing grounds. A massive affair reminiscent of an ancient aquatic ship, its repulsors churned up the sand and left a miniature sandstorm in its wake. Brilliant red awnings protected its occupants from the blazing suns, and powerful guns bristled from all sides. Hovering close by like a scavenger fish tagging along with a Hapan sea dragon was a much smaller hoverskiff, its top completely open to the elements.

Luke blinked rapidly, the sun and sand in his eyes making it difficult to see. Four guards on this skiff, plus over two dozen of Jabba's thugs and hangers-on aboard the barge, versus two Jedi, two droids, a medical officer, a con man, a princess, a Wookie, and a blind smuggler… not good odds at all. But Vader had assured them that he and Forenze could handle their part of the plan. All he could do was trust them while he concentrated on freeing Han and Chewie.

"I think my sight's returning," Han noted.

"Yeah?" asked Luke.

"Yeah, instead of a big dark blur, it's all a big light blur."

Luke laughed a little. "Not much to see beyond that." He gazed at the dune crests that obscured the horizon. "I used to live here, you know."

"You're gonna die here. Convenient."

"Your optimism's a comfort, Han. Just stick close to Chewie. Vader and I have everything under control."

"Right," Han replied sarcastically. "Chewie told me you'd gone and become a Jedi Knight." He shook his head and muttered, "I'm out of it for a little while and everyone gets delusions of grandeur…"

"Vader's a Jedi too," Luke replied. "He's on the barge now, getting ready to free Leia."

"Vader? A Jedi? If that's isn't ironic."

"And he regained his memory too."

"He WHAT?!"

"Regained his memory. Don't worry, he decided to stay with the Alliance. He didn't have many good memories of serving the Empire."

Han rolled his eyes. "Everything seems to happen when I'm not around, doesn't it?"

Luke stared off into the distance, where a smudge of white was barely visible. The homestead was probably in the hands of another farmer family now. He doubted much would have been changed, however, if he had gone back and taken a look.

Life had certainly come full circle for him. A mere four years ago he'd been here on Tatooine banging on a vaporator on his uncle's moisture farm, detesting his dull life and yearning for adventure beyond the double suns of his homeworld. Now he was back, having lived those adventures he'd craved and seen a dozen worlds and moons… yet part of him missed those familiar, predictable days on the farm, working the fields, helping Aunt Beru cook dinner, racing skyhoppers with the boys, and arguing with the droids.

/But if you'd never left Tatooine, we'd never have been reunited/ Vader replied. /And you'd never have met Han and Leia, or destroyed the Death Star, or furthered your Jedi training./

/True. I'm just nostalgic, that's all./

/Wish I could say the same./ Vader's silence was thick and brooding. /I never thought I'd come back here. So many memories…/

/I'm sorry./

/Don't be. It's only that a childhood as a slave to a junk dealer doesn't offer much in the way of nostalgia. There was the podracing, though…/

/At least that's something, though./

/True./

To be honest, despite his wistfulness, Luke wouldn't have traded the last four years for anything. He was a Jedi now, and fighting for a noble cause with the Rebel Alliance. And above all, he had his father. That alone was worth leaving the comfort of home.

The barge ground to a halt alongside a pit in the sand, and the skiff Luke was aboard hovered just over the same cavity. Luke craned his neck to peer inside.

/The pit of Carkoon/ he thought with a shudder. He'd heard stories about the beast that lived here – mostly horror tales shared between the farm boys during their escapades or third- or fourth-hand spacer stories overheard in Anchorhead. As he'd grown older, he'd dismissed most of them as cantina talk or urban legends. Now he had little doubt that every last story he'd heard about the sarlaac was accurate.

Writhing within the pit were greenish tentacles that slithered and thrashed like vipers. Some of the limbs were extended skyward like antennae, possibly as scent or other sensory organs; others slapped eagerly at the skiff as if hoping to knock out a tasty morsel. Dead center in the squirming mass, a toothless beak gaped open, a slug-like tongue extended to taste the air for a hint of prey.

/Disgusting/ Vader complained.

/You should talk. You're not the one staring it in the mouth./

/Artoo's in position. Forenze and I are set to begin a little distraction whenever you're ready./

/Thanks. Wait for my signal./

/Will do./

Jabba's voice thundered from the shaded barge.

"If any of you should like to beg for mercy," Threepio translated in a slightly hysterical tone, "the Almighty Jabba will now hear your pleas."

Snide laughter rippled through those assembled on the barge. The skiff guards echoed the sentiment.

"Threepio!" Han shouted, obviously with more bravado than he felt. "You tell that piece of worm-ridden filth that he'll get no such pleasure from us!" He hesitated. "Right?"

"Jabba, this is your last chance!" Luke added. "Free us or die!"

The spectators roared with laughter.

"I think you terrified them," Han said sarcastically.

Luke spotted Artoo scooting closer to the edge of the barge's deck. He nodded, the droid's signal to get ready.

"Move the Jedi into position!" ordered Jabba.

The skiff guard shoved Luke onto the edge of the plank, undoing his hand binders. Presumably he wouldn't be needing them anymore. Luke bent over to have another look at the sarlaac, whose mouth was open and gaping in anticipation.

/Careful, Luke./

/I'm always careful./ He gave a little bounce, like a diver preparing to jump from a springboard. /You're just paranoid./

/If you don't hold still out there, I'm going to turn you over my knee and spank you when this is all over! You're going to give me a heart attack!/

He laughed a little but quit the antics.

At Jabba's order the Weequay guard stepped forward, ready to prod his victim into the sarlaac's eager maw. But Luke stepped off of his own accord… and spun in midair, grabbing the edge of the plank. He vaulted into the air, somersaulting over the stunned guards and landing neatly beside an awed Chewie, one arm raised to catch the lightsaber Artoo had launched into the air.

/Now!/

-------

Leia watched the skiff anxiously, her gaze fixed on Luke as he stepped forward to the edge of the plank, toward certain doom. What in the galaxy was he doing? Was this part of the plan? How exactly did it involve this madness? Or had the plan unraveled entirely, and he was simply maintaining his dignity to the end?

The collar about her throat jerked painfully, and she fell backward onto Jabba's bloated torso. She flinched and suppressed the urge to gag as he draped a possessive arm around her shoulders and held a cup of scummy-looking liquor before her mouth.

"Drink, my pet," he rumbled, stroking her hair. "You'll soon learn to appreciate me."

Closing her eyes, she faked a sip. Disgusting though the Hutt was, she could endure the humiliation he was putting her through. Even if Luke's plan failed, she could still engineer Jabba's death from the inside of his palace…

The crowded barge was suddenly alive with dismay. Had Luke escaped?

"What?!" bellowed Jabba. "What's going on out there?"

No one answered. Instead, chaos broke out on the barge.

"What the stang is happening here?" Jabba demanded.

"The pirate's gone crazy!" Fortuna replied.

"Which pirate?" demanded Jabba.

"The short one!"

"Which short one, you idiot?!"

"WHO YOU CALLING SHORT?!"

/I know that voice/ Leia thought with a snort of laughter.

A maniacal cackle could be heard over the din, and Leia spotted Medical Officer Forenze in the thick of the pitched brawl, the black flight helmet she'd worn to conceal her identify now rolling on the floor. Her feathered crest had been cropped into a military-style cut to fit under the helmet, and her dark blue flight suit made her pale features all the more prominent. She had her blaster out, but rather than firing it she seemed to prefer to use it as a club.

A Quarren in rich white robes stepped forward to subdue the crazed Fosh, a dagger in hand. Leia shouted a warning, and Forenze turned and promptly sank a fist in the alien's gut to knock the wind from him, at the same time whacking him alongside the head with her pistol. Though slight in build, she seemed perfectly able to take care of herself.

"Aurra, kill the bird!" Jabba ordered.

Aurra Sing drew her rifle, but a Tusken Raider knocked it out of her hands with his gaderffi. The Sandpeople had accompanied Jabba aboard the barge – a mistake on the Hutt's part, evidently. For the nomadic warriors were taking advantage of the fist fight's distraction to rebel.

Leia scrambled to Jabba's side, using the crime lord's flabby bulk as a shield against the rapidly escalating battle. If this was Luke's plan, at least it was working.

A blaze of red illuminated the dim barge as Aurra ignited a lightsaber. Grinning savagely, she struck at the closest Tusken, slicing through his gaderffi and severing two fingers. The warrior howled in pain, and a hooded comrade – Leia guessed he was a shaman of some sort – stepped forward to face the huntress. Leia winced. If the shaman thought himself a match for Aurra Sing, he was sorely mistaken.

Aurra laughed disdainfully and slashed at the Tusken's stomach – only for a bar of green energy to intercept her blade.

Stunned, Aurra struck again. The Tusken parried the slash. Leia recognized the saber immediately, but how could that be…

The shaman's hood fell back, revealing a black domed helmet. With one hand he reached up and swiftly tore away the traditional facial coverings to unveil a second, more sinister mask, one that glistened with a metallic luster.

"Darth Vader," Aurra hissed through clenched teeth, fighting to cloak her terror in rage.

Jabba made an unusually high-pitched sound and recoiled. The other occupants of the barge went into hysterics, screaming and backing away, some even leaping overboard to escape. Leia couldn't blame them, though at the moment she was glad for Vader's presence.

The injured Tusken scooped a discarded blaster from the floor with his good hand and shouted something in his native tongue. Vader replied in the same language, and the Raider eagerly leaped into the free-for-all battle. Meanwhile, a vicious saber fight ensued between Aurra and Vader.

"Kill him!" screamed Jabba, his fleshy body jiggling sickeningly as he trembled in fear. "Kill the Sith! Protect me!"

/What, can't protect yourself, your Grossness?/ Leia thought, and she flung a section of her chain around his throat. Jabba's next words were cut off with a gurgle as she hauled on the chain.

---------

The sail barge seethed with pitched battle, meaning that Vader and Forenze's distraction had gone beautifully. Luke smiled and turned to face the skiff guards, who didn't seem too impressed that they were facing a Jedi.

"Think you're hot stuff, Jedi?" the first sneered. "All your stunt's done is buy you time. You're still sarlaac chow."

The entire skiff rocked dangerously as the sarlaac struck it with a flailing tentacle, enraged at being denied food. The guards staggered, and Luke took advantage of their distraction to turn to Han and Chewie and cut through their handbinders.

"What's that noise?" demanded Han.

"Just a diversion," Luke replied.

The Weequay gripped his vibrostaff and charged Luke, only to be flung over the side by an irate Chewie. The sarlaac closed its maw over the screaming thug and pulled its beak deeper into the pit to swallow its prey.

"Thanks," Luke told the Wookie.

Another guard raised his staff to impale Luke. Luke struck the man's weapon, cutting it apart, and shoved him overboard. Then he ducked as Chewie flung yet another guard to his doom.

"Go get 'em, Chewie!" Han shouted.

"Chewie, wait!" cried Luke as Chewie went for the last guard, but it was too late. The Wookie tossed him off the skiff as well.

"That was Lando, Chewie!"

Chewie made a noise that could best be described as "So?" Evidently Chewie still hadn't entirely forgiven the former Baron for giving Han to the bounty hunter in the first place.

"Lando!" repeated Han. "What's Lando doing here?"

"He came here to help us!" Luke told him. "We've got to rescue him!"

"A little help down here!" Lando shouted, trying to claw his way out of the pit as a green-tinged tentacle reached for him.

---------

"Help me!" cried Threepio, swatting frantically at the monkey-lizard that was doing its best to disassemble his face.

Artoo made an exasperated series of beeps, then wheeled past a brutal fist fight between Forenze and a Nikto to where his unfortunate counterpart lay. Why did he have to be constantly coming to the protocol droid's aid? He extended a shock probe, and with a SNAP and a strong smell of static and burning fur he released a jolt of power into the jester's derriere. The creature hit the ceiling – quite literally – with a shriek.

"What took you so long, Artoo?" demanded Threepio, struggling to his feet. "Now let's get out of here before they decide to dismantle us…"

Artoo rammed into Threepio's legs, shoving him closer to the edge of the deck.

"Artoo, watch it!" he snapped. "Clumsy…"

One more solid collision, and Threepio tumbled with a cry to the sands. Artoo rolled off after him.

-------

/A Jedi resorts to battle only when there is no other alternative. When you draw your blade, you do so with intent to take a life. A Jedi takes no lives when death can be avoided./

/Yes, Master Kenobi/ Vader thought as he recalled that line from the fencing lectures, parrying another of Aurra Sing's brutal attacks. Well, battle had been pretty much inevitable once Aurra had drawn her weapon. She was a foe who could not be reasoned with or balked with a show of power or the Force. And considering her hatred toward the Jedi Order, not drawing his own blade would be suicidal.

Her face contorted in a snarl of rage as she slashed at his legs. He blocked the blow and feinted toward her left hip, then struck at her head. She parried fiercely and repaid the maneuver with a brutal blow that almost knocked the blade out of his hands.

He knew she hated him. He could sense it. Aurra hated him with a passion that he had once possessed – the passion to hunt down and murder the Jedi. And she would stop at nothing to see him dead.

But surprisingly, Vader only felt pity for the huntress, even as he fended off her ferocious strikes. This woman had been abducted from her Jedi Master at a tender age, brainwashed and turned against the Order by pirates and Anzati vampires, and fed so many lies that she could no longer harbor any empathy toward the Jedi – or any living being, for that matter. He sympathized with her plight. He, too, had been betrayed, lied to, and turned against the Order. He, too, had once been driven by the madness of hatred. Yet he had broken free of that anger… while Aurra remained enslaved by it.

Under different circumstances, he might have attempted to reach her and turn away her hatred. But seeing as he had a mission to be filling, he hadn't the time or resources. Instead, he concentrated on defending himself.

By now he had Aurra backed up to the edge of the deck. She seemed oblivious to her precarious position, intent only on destroying him.

A Tusken chose that moment to grab a Klatoonian by the front of his shirt and fling him over the edge of the deck – and smack into Vader and Aurra.

Vader grabbed the railing as he went over, clinging on for dear life. Aurra and the Klatoonian weren't so lucky – they tumbled, screaming, into the sarlaac's waiting jaws.

Forenze leaned over the railing and grabbed Vader's arm. "Why do I have to keep saving you?"

"You tell me," he replied, hauling himself aboard the barge.

"And what's with the getup anyhow? You look like one of those Tusken savages."

"That's the point."

The skiff shuddered as a cannon blast struck it. Chewie, who was holding Han's legs as he struggled to grab Lando's hand, almost toppled off. Luke took a running leap from the damaged skiff to land beside Vader and Forenze.

"C'mon!" he told them. "We've got to disable that cannon before it kills Han!"

---------

Jabba gave a last sickly rattle and slumped forward, face lax and tongue hanging out of his enormous mouth. In death he looked nothing like Tatooine's most fearsome crime lord – just like the slimy pile of lard he was.

Leia dropped the chain, exhausted. /That's for Han – and everyone else you've killed, harassed, and conned/ she thought.

"Leia!"

She turned to see Luke, Vader, and Forenze running for her. Vader still had his lightsaber ignited, and he slashed through the chain that bound her to the Hutt's side.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Vader demanded.

"No," she replied. "Why?"

He gave her a long, searching look, then motioned for her to go with Luke. She complied, running for the deck guns.

Outside the barge, the skiff's repulsors exploded under the cannon's fire, and the vehicle fell bow-first into the Pit of Carkoon. The sarlaac gave a squeal of terror and retracted its beak and as many tentacles as it could before the skiff crashed atop it. Han, Chewie, and Lando fell to the sands, struggling to their feet and bolting from the wreckage of machine and monster.

"Han!" Leia shouted.

"I'm fine!" he yelled, his reply barely audible over the chaos.

The deck gunner landed heavily at her feet, a cauterized stab wound through his chest.

"Get the cannon!" Luke ordered, keeping the rest of Jabba's thugs at bay. "Point it at the deck!"

She grabbed the heavy gun and wrenched it around, aiming its muzzle at the barge's deck. A well-placed shot would penetrate the barge's engines and destroy the entire vehicle.

"It's ready!" she shouted.

"Good!" Luke replied. "We'll have to jump! Brace yourself!"

She approached the edge and looked down. It was twelve feet down! She'd break a leg!

"I'm here," Luke assured her. "It'll be fine."

"For fwup's sake, jump already!" Forenze shrieked.

Leia closed her eyes and jumped. For a moment it felt as if invisible arms were holding her, slowing her fall. Then she hit the sand, and Han was beside her, helping her to her feet.

"Han!" She embraced him, burying her head in his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I think I can see a lot better now," Han replied. "But why are you dressed like THAT?!"

Forenze landed face-down not far away. "Ouch!"

"And you brought the cranky doctor too, I see," he noted.

Vader landed close by, followed by five Tusken Raiders. Luke was last – and just in time, for the barge erupted into a blossom of flame. Everyone scrambled to their feet and backed away from the holocaust.

"Impressive," Vader breathed. "Most impressive."

"I'd've been more impressed if you'd gotten the skiff out in one piece," complained Forenze. "As it is, we're gonna have to walk back to the Falcon."

The Tuskens conversed among themselves, and one of them shouted something at Vader before they disappeared over the next dune.

"What did they just say?" asked Luke.

"To wait here," Vader replied. "They will secure transportation for us."

Sure enough, the Tuskens returned a few minutes later, each astride a shaggy bantha and leading a sixth beast behind them on a tether.

"A Tusken escort," Luke said with a smile. "And I thought I'd seen everything."

Vader helped everyone mount the beasts. Leia settled down as well as she could behind her Tusken guard, who seemed oblivious to her presence.

"Mind if I sit here?" asked Han, climbing up to sit behind her.

"You'll have to ask him," she replied, pointing to the Raider.

"How'd you end up with these guys anyhow?" asked Lando, climbing aboard a second bantha.

"It's a long story," Vader replied as he and Chewie finished tying Artoo and Threepio to the back of his own mount. "I'll tell you on the way."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"…friggin' sand in my boots, friggin' heat, friggin' cronies of Jabba's picking a fight every chance they get…" Forenze grumbled, earning a tolerant glance from the Tusken seated in front of her. "I hate this planet."

"That's funny," Vader remarked dryly. "I seem to recall a medical officer freezing her tail off on Hoth, wishing we'd establish a base someplace warm like here."

"Shut up," she snapped. She reached up to run her hand through what was left of her crest. "And I had to whack this off to get my head in a disguise, looks horrible, I hope you're happy."

"Hey, I think you look good with short feathers," Luke volunteered.

"Was I asking you?" she snapped.

Han laughed. "You know you've been gone from the Alliance too long when you realize how much you've missed the cranky doctor."

The bantha caravan lumbered on, the Tuskens traveling in a line to disguise their tracks. Luke had never ridden a bantha before, but once one got used to the swaying motions it made as it walked, it was pretty simple. And at least the beasts didn't stink like tauntauns, spit like eopies, or balk and bolt at the slightest disturbance like dewbacks.

"Where are they taking us anyhow?" asked Han.

"We parked the Millennium Falcon, the Desert Angel, and Luke's X-wing out by Beggar's Canyon," Lando explained. "I guess Vader's had his friends watching over the ships for us."

"How did you end up with them in the first place?" asked Luke.

"As I said before, it's a long story," Vader replied. "It started many years ago, before my Sith years, when I was a Jedi Padawan."

"You were a Jedi?" asked Leia.

"Yes, Leia. I joined the Order when I was nine, leaving my mother on Tatooine. The Order preferred younger students, ones who did not have deep emotional attachments to friends or relatives yet. Unfortunately, I had such an attachment – my mother. I always felt guilty for leaving her in wretched conditions and worried for her safety often.

"Ten years later, driven by nightmares, I returned to my homeworld to learn my mother had been abducted by Tusken Raiders. My stepfather and stepbrother had given her up for dead, but I refused to believe them and tracked the Tuskens to their encampment. There, wounded and dying slowly from endless beatings, was my mother." He lowered his head, silent a few minutes. "She died in my arms."

Luke sent a wave of comfort along the Force to his father. He'd heard this story once before, and he knew just how deeply the memory of Shmi's death – and his actions afterward – still hurt him.

"I went mad," Vader continued. "My rage consumed me. I killed every Tusken in the camp, including the women and children. I felt completely justified in my actions then, for these creatures had slain my mother. But later I realized just how severe my crime was. I had tasted of the dark side, and in doing so I took my first step down a black road that led to my fall."

"Ouch," Han mumbled sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Darth."

"What's this got to do with…" began Lando.

"I'm getting there," Vader assured him. "When I regained my memory a year ago, I promised myself I'd do all I could in recompense to absolve my actions. And when I joined the rescue mission, I saw my chance to make restitution for that first in a long list of crimes.

"The Tuskens are divided into warring tribes, so it took me a few weeks to identify the tribe of the Tuskens I had killed. Once I'd located that tribe – the Dragon Tribe of the Jundland Wastes – I took a risk and allowed myself to be captured by them. I was taken before their chieftain, where I identified myself as the killer of his people.

"The chieftain knew a measure of Basic – from where I never found out – and he informed me that I owed his tribe a debt – a blood debt. Some species practice the life debt, where they will give their life in payment to one who has rescued them. The blood debt is a different matter. I had shed the blood of his tribe, and only my blood could pay that debt.

"I told the chieftain the truth – that the crime I had committed had haunted me for years, and that I was thoroughly ashamed of my actions. I would gladly pay with my own life if he felt it would settle the matter.

"The chieftain was shocked – he had never before met a being who had wished to willingly pay the blood debt. He declared to his tribe that I had acted nobly, and that to repay that nobility he would alter the terms of the blood debt. Blood would still be required, but only a few ritual drops to seal the matter. For the rest, I would live among his people for nine months, learn their customs, and become a Tusken. And I would free his people from the bondage of Jabba the Hutt, for the crime lord had caused his tribe much trouble.

"I agreed to his terms, and he drew a knife and slashed my left palm, marking the beginning of my payment. Since then I have served by his side as a shaman, and I have learned much about the Sandpeople and their ways. I have learned about their respect for nature, their unity with their surroundings, and most of all, I learned of their ongoing war with the settlers of Tatooine – an endless war in which my mother and his people were only a handful of many, many casualties.

"I will always retain some anger toward the Tuskens for my mother's death, but it no longer consumes me. There are two sides to every story, and according to their side, this is their planet and the humans are trespassing on their lands. In their minds, they probably felt as justified in their actions as I did in mine.

"Now Jabba is dead. The Tuskens are free of his bondage. My blood debt is repayed, and my mind – and my mother – can rest in peace."

Everyone gaped at Vader in astonishment.

"You could have been killed!" Luke finally blurted.

"I knew that was a possibility," Vader replied. "But I thought it an acceptable risk."

"Now I know you're crazy," Han told him.

Chewie gave a look-who's-talking sort of bark.

Their party crossed one more rise, and the Falcon, Angel, and X-wing came into view. The banthas came to a halt before the vehicles, and the Rebels dismounted. One Tusken also slid down from his bantha and stepped forward to talk to Vader. Luke watched, wary.

Vader bowed as the Tusken approached. A small reptile skull hung from a chain of dragon's teeth around his neck, and his gaderffi was decorated with more teeth and small bones that hung from the weapon's handle on leather thongs. The chieftain murmured a few words, passed a hand over Vader's head, and turned back to his mount.

"What was that?" asked Han.

"Sounded like 'arrraggh-arrrooo' to me," Forenze smirked.

"What did he tell you?" asked Luke.

"That I always have a place among his people," Vader replied. "The debt has been paid, but I am still considered one of his kind and one of his tribe. He knows that I am guilty of many crimes in the galaxy beyond Tatooine, and if there is ever a time that I am not welcome anywhere else, I am free to return to his people."

Luke watched the Tuskens go. He'd never known the Sandpeople to be anything beyond vicious tribal nomads that harassed moisture farmers and Jawa caravans. To see them extend forgiveness to his father cast them in a new light in his eyes.

"You got all of that out of 'arrraggh-arrrooo?'" asked Forenze.

Vader laughed.

"So you rescued me and snuffed Jabba," said Han. "Now what?"

"Now we go back to the Alliance," Leia replied. "The Empire's building a new Death Star, and we need as much help as possible to destroy it."

"Vader and I have some business to take care of first," Luke told them. "With our Jedi Master on Dagobah."

Leia nodded. "Why don't we go with you?" she suggested. "We'd like to meet him."

Everyone agreed, and preparations were made for takeoff.

"Hey kid," Han said, putting an arm around Luke's shoulders.

"Missed you, Han," Luke replied.

"I needed to ask you a question. I asked Vader on the ride here, but he turned me down."

"For what?"

"I'm going to need a best man."

"I'll keep my eyes open for one."

"Is that a no?"

He laughed. "No, I guess it's a yes."

"Thanks."

Luke laughed and climbed into his X-wing.

-

"Get up."

Jerjerrod jerked awake with the aid of a foot to the ribs, completely disoriented. This dim, cramped room wasn't his bedchamber! Bewildered, he sat up and stared blankly at the two stormtroopers that stared back through glowering helmets.

"On your feet," the first trooper, a corporal, barked in a voice that brooked no argument.

He silently fumed as yesterday's events returned to him. Kain had demanded his arrest for treason – simply because the Emperor's pet project was taking longer than he thought it should! He swung his legs over the side of the cot and stood, glaring at the soldiers he had once commanded.

"So I'm to be executed?" he spat. "So be it. What's the method to be?"

If the corporal heard, he gave no sign. "Follow me."

They led him out of the cell and away from the detention block. All the while he wondered what his fate would be. The Republic's preferred method of execution had been lethal injection, but the Empire embraced harsher means such as electrocution, firing squads, and carnivorous beasts. If, of course, the doomed wasn't first interrogated and/or murdered by a deranged Sith. Knowing his luck, the last option would be his end.

How dare he be subjected to this, though? He'd served the Empire faithfully for fifteen years, moving from ensign to Grand Admiral over the course of his career. He'd led the Imperial Fleet to victory at the Battle of Malastare, crushed a Rebel cell on Sullust, and successfully routed a coup within the Council of Moffs. How could his services to the Empire be nullified by a simple delay and a Dark Lord's whim?

/If that's how he wants to play, then I can play his game/ Jerjerrod thought with macabre glee. /If I could escape, I could show him a thing or two… sabotage the Death Star… maybe commandeer a Stardestroyer and blast it to pieces with him aboard…/

The other trooper, a private, suddenly shoved him into a supply closet. He gave a startled shout that was promptly smothered by a gloved hand.

"Now listen closely," the corporal whispered. "I'm going to remove my hand from your mouth, and you're going to stay quiet. Understand? I have a stun gun to your back, so we can take that route if you want, but it'll be worse off for all of us."

The hand dropped. He didn't dare antagonize his captor by calling out or asking the questions that flooded his mind, but he had to wonder at this clone soldier's audacity.

"Good," the corporal noted. "Now if you want to get off this station alive, do as I say."

"Now wait a minute…" protested Jerjerrod, taken aback at this man's lack of respect.

"Ssshh!" the corporal hissed. "Unless you want our cover blown!"

"We're trying to help you," the private added. "We need your cooperation to do it, though."

Jerjerrod stared at the lower-ranking stormtrooper a moment. He knew that voice. He'd heard it before, a long time ago… but where?

"Get dressed," the corporal ordered, dropping a bulky sack that clattered loudly at his feet.

"In THIS?" demanded Jerjerrod, pulling the sack open to find a stormtrooper helmet frowning up at him.

"In that," the private replied. "Hurry."

With a great deal of misgiving he stripped off his military uniform, then zipped into the bodyglove and strapped on the various pieces of armor. The corporal looked him up and down critically and nodded once before thrusting a blaster into his arms.

"Good enough. Let's go."

Jerjerrod pulled on the helmet and followed his captors/rescuers down the hallway, trying his best to imitate the gait and posture of a stormtrooper.

/I can't see a thing/ he thought, squinting behind the inadequate lenses of the helmet. /No wonder stormtroopers can't hit the broad side of a Hutt/

No one gave the three of them a second glance, even when the corporal led them to a hangar and toward a waiting shuttle. Troopers were a common sight, and they were constantly traveling to and from this station. And if some highbrow Moff or Admiral had requested a few of them to accompany him off the Death Star, so be it.

"Get in," the corporal ordered, suiting actions to words by climbing the gangplank.

"You can't get away with stealing a shuttle!" protested Jerjerrod.

"Ha, watch us," the corporal replied.

Jerjerrod and the private climbed in. He ripped off his helmet and stared at the two creatures that occupied the pilot and co-pilot seats of the shuttle.

"Rebels," he grumbled. "Why did it have to be Rebels?"

"Oh, he says it like it's such a bad thing," the Mon Calamari woman said with a laugh, smiling at him from the pilot seat. "My name's Mela. My co-pilot is Sophronia, but we call him Rocky."

The Wookie growled something that a translation device interpreted as "You'd prefer to be called Rocky too if your idiot parents named you Sophronia."

"I'm Wedge Antilles," the fake corporal greeted, pulling off his helmet to reveal untidy black hair and a boyish face. "And for your information, you've been liberated, not by any ordinary Rebels, but the Rebellion's finest – Rogue Squadron."

He groaned as if in pain. Rogue Squadron was notorious for its hit-and-run tactics, and they had caused untold damage to the Empire.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Mela asked.

"Why me? What does the Rebellion want with me?"

"We need information," Wedge told him. "Information we can use to destroy the Death Star. And since you obviously aren't wanted by the Empire anymore, you can provide it to us without fear of too much retaliation."

Jerjerrod took a deep breath. This was the chance he'd been seeking, wasn't it? To blast this station into oblivion right in Kain's armored face? But to aid the Alliance, the organization he'd considered to be the enemy for so long…

The private, who'd remained silent all this time, spoke up at last. "This is an opportunity for you, Jerjerrod. An opportunity to gain vengeance for the loss of your position in the Empire. And an opportunity to finally strike a blow for freedom and justice in the galaxy."

Again Jerjerrod recognized that voice, but he couldn't for the life of him place it. "Who are you?"

"An old friend," he replied, sliding off his helmet.

Jerjerrod gaped… then burst out laughing. "Piett! Good stars, I haven't seen you since our days in the Senate! Where have you been?"

"Oh, around," Piett replied, sharing a friendly embrace with him.

"You know each other?" Wedge asked with an expression of pleasant surprise.

"Know each other?" Jerjerrod repeated. "We were best friends and the two most infamous pranksters in the entire Senate Guard! Oh, the stories we could tell…" He laughed easily. "But how did you end up with the Rebellion?"

"It's a long story," Piett replied. "But first we need to know your allegiances, my old friend. Will you join the Alliance?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I haven't much to go back to in the Empire. And I do have a grudge to work out."

Piett smiled. "Then welcome aboard, my friend. Now for my story…"

-

Kain entered the Emperor's throne room on the Death Star and knelt before him, waiting for his master to acknowledge his presence. Palpatine gazed out the window, hands clasped behind him, silent and brooding.

"What is it?" the dictator demanded.

"A party of Rebels has infiltrated the Death Star," he reported.

"Yes, I know," Palpatine said dismissively.

"They have liberated former Admiral Jerjerrod and are taking him with them."

"He's of no consequence. As far as I'm concerned, they can have him."

"Permission to capture and destroy the Rebels."

"Denied."

"Master, they are Rebels…"

"They are beneath my notice, apprentice. I have other needs for your services."

Kain ground his teeth angrily. His master was just going to stand there and let these traitors to the Empire go free? If Kain had his way, the Rebels would have died excruciatingly within ten minutes of their arrival.

"Patience, young one," Palpatine advised. "The Rebellion will be crushed soon enough."

/It's not the Rebellion I wish to see destroyed/ Kain thought, clenching his cybernetic hand. Hatred pulsed through his bloodstream, stoking the flames of the dark side until they threatened to consume him. Skywalker had done far more than cut off his hand that fateful day a year ago – he had torn a deep wound in his pride. And having been denied the right to kill the Jedi by his master only made the wound fester.

"You are aware, Kain, that the Skywalkers have grown powerful," Palpatine went on.

"Yes, my master." One would have to be completely Force-blind to miss that.

"Their relationship as father and son only serves to strengthen their powers," Palpatine added. "It will take both of us to turn them."

Kain knew better than to verbalize his displeasure with the plan. But didn't the Emperor know the most basic commandment of the Sith Order – "always two?" Three or more Sith would plot against each other and lead to the Order's destruction, just as the original Order had done during the Sith Wars. "Always two" ensured that there would always be a master and an apprentice – one to instruct and plan, the other to learn and obey. A third would only serve to weaken and divide the order.

"But we can take steps to ensure Luke Skywalker progresses no further into his training," Palpatine said. "To keep him growing too powerful. And you shall take action to ensure this, my apprentice."

Kain did not lift his head or otherwise acknowledge the assignment, but his breath quickened at the prospect of just such an assignment. If his master was truly granting him permission… it wouldn't be quite the same as destroying Skywalker, but it would weaken him, strike a blow that wouldn't soon heal.

"Go now," Palpatine ordered. "When you've finished your business on Dagobah, meet me on Byss. If we are to overcome the Skywalkers, we must meet them on our own territory. That way, they will be no match for us."

"Yes, my master." He stood and strode out.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Yoda rose from meditation and reached for his cane. For the past several hours he had been listening and waiting, following the progress of the ship he knew was en route to Dagobah. Now that it had landed, it was time to go outside and greet his unexpected visitor.

He hobbled out the door of his hut, carefully picking his way through a scrabble of rocks, and halted about ten meters from his guest.

"Boba Fett," he greeted. "Many years it has been. Changed much you have."

"You really thought you could hide forever, old one?" Darth Kain rasped mockingly. His outline was barely discernable against the damp darkness of twilight, the lights of the hut being the only illumination. If it hadn't been for the slightest gleam of gold across his glossy armor, he would have been totally invisible to the eyes.

"My intention to hide forever it was not," Yoda replied. "But then, know that I suspect you do."

Crimson fire flared, and Kain's saber bled light in a pool around him, reflecting in splashes from his armor, the swamp water, and the chrome finishes on the Slave.

"You don't frighten me, old one," he snarled. "The Jedi are as good as extinct. You and your pitiful attempts to train the Skywalkers are but the last fitful, dying gasps of the Order." He swung the weapon before him and assumed an offensive stance, ready to attack at any moment. "The Sith are the true masters of the galaxy now… and I am the true master on this world."

"You master nothing, Boba Fett," Yoda countered, leaning on his cane and gazing calmly upon the man. "Rather, master you the dark side does."

Kain growled in anger. "Boba Fett does not exist!"

"Exist he does," Yoda retorted. "And never meant to be a Force user was he." He pointed at Kain with a clawed finger. "Not strong enough were you to master the Force, let alone its dark side. Conquered you the Force has, enslaved you. Taken you the madness of the dark side has, and soon consume you it will as it has consumed your master."

"The dark side makes us powerful!" Kain cried. "And that power will destroy the Order that murdered my father and kept the entire galaxy bound in their thrall!"

"Destroy the Order it may… but eventually, destroy you it shall."

Kain flung his left arm forward, releasing a river of white-hot lightning. Yoda's hand came up to block, and the energy balled up inside him as he absorbed the raw power his foe had unleashed. He reflected that same power back at Kain, who caught it along the edge of his saber.

"Look upon yourself, Fett. See what you have become. If see you now your father could, weep he would."

A cluster of stones, the smallest of which was as large as a man's head, hurled themselves at Yoda. He drew on the Force and leaped high, spinning once before landing upon the fallen rocks. Kain growled at his failure to hit the Jedi.

"I'll never know what my father would do if he could see me now, will I?" demanded Kain. "Because your lackey Windu killed him! And don't deny it, old one, because I saw it with my own eyes!"

He charged with a feral roar. Yoda sighed and drew his own weapon, parrying that first slash. He was getting far too old for this.

/Hurry, Skywalker, Vader/ he urged quietly. /Know how long I can hold up I do not./

-

Three ships emerged from hyperspace over the green sphere of Dagobah. The fighters of Luke and Vader led the way, dropping toward the planet's atmosphere, the Falcon close behind.

"You've got to be kidding me," Han grumbled.

"Nope," Luke replied. "No planet is too humble for a Jedi."

"Not a bad place," Lando remarked. "Would make a nice safari stop."

"For a Hutt, maybe," Forenze retorted.

Vader was silent as they descended toward the planet. Almost a year ago he'd left Dagobah in a fit of anger. Now his anger toward Yoda had cooled (if not his anger toward the Code), but that didn't do much to quell his apprehension at their reunion.

"What's Yoda like?" asked Leia. "I hear he was a legend in his own day, but I'm not even sure what his species was."

"If it's any consolation, your Highness, no one knew quite for sure what species he was," Vader told her.

"Well, how would you describe him?" she asked.

Evidently Luke couldn't resist. "How do I put this? Let's see, men like Yoda are in… shall we say… 'short' supply."

Vader couldn't help it. He burst into laughter.

"That's mean!" Leia chided, even though she was also laughing.

"It's the truth!" Luke protested.

"All right, that was funny, but unless someone gives me coordinates for where this Yoda lives, we're going to be walking all over the planet," Han cut in.

"I'm sending them to you now," Vader replied, keying in the numbers.

"Stang, the far side of the planet," Han grumbled. "I hate night landings."

"There's a big field not far from his home," Luke offered. "It should be big enough for the Falcon."

As the starcraft began to circle the planet, Vader had some time to think. He had yet to reveal to Luke and Leia that they were brother and sister. He had told himself he was just waiting for the right moment, but in actuality he was stalling because he wasn't sure how they would react. It wouldn't be as big of a shock to Luke, but Leia… even though she had forgiven him for his part in her interrogation and the destruction of her homeworld, the revelation that Vader was her father would still shake her. Maybe, though, knowing Luke was more than just a friend but a sibling would soften that blow.

/Then again, that might be a shake-up all its own. They were physically attracted to each other at the beginning, and they've shared at least one romantic kiss that I know of…/

Something blasted into Vader's mind and body at that moment – a wave of agony, rage, depraved glee, resignation, sorrow, and an unspeakable blackness. He cried out involuntarily, writhing with the pain, sweat pouring down his brow. Pain… suffering… the dark side… Kain… someone was in agony… wounded… burning… dying…

Luke gasped for breath over the comm. Whatever had hit Vader, he was feeling it as well.

"Luke!" Leia shouted. "Are you all right!"

"Luke! Darth!" Han sounded frantic, a rarity for the scoundrel. "What's happening?"

"Forget Luke and Darth!" Forenze shouted. "We've got company!"

A black Firespray roared up from the planet surface, guns blazing. Vader barely had the presence of mind to swerve and dodge the fire.

"What's Kain doing on…" began Luke. "No!"

"Yoda!" Vader realized, and he punched the throttle, streaking toward the planet. Luke was a breath behind him.

"What about Kain?" demanded Han.

"Let him go!" Leia ordered. "We have to help Luke and Vader!"

Mist closed its smoky fingers around the Angel, obscuring his vision totally and wreaking havoc with the ship's sensors. He extended the Force in an aura around the fighter, sensing the proximity of trees and other obstacles, deftly moving to dodge said obstacles without reducing his speed. All the while the sense of horrible pain became stronger.

A terrible sight met his eyes when the Angel dropped out of the mist to land. Yoda's hut was in flames. The mud and earth around the blaze had been churned up as if by a stampede's passing. Trees bore ugly slash marks from lightsaber blades, and huge stones lay displaced all around as if thrown.

He was out of his fighter's cockpit the instant it touched down, running for the burning house. The intense heat of the inferno drove him back, though. Was Yoda trapped inside? If so, he had to save him…

"He's not in there," Luke said breathlessly, coming to stand beside him. "I just know he isn't!"

"Then where is he?" demanded Vader.

The others burst into the clearing, staring wide-eyed at the mess Kain had made of the area.

"Stang," Han breathed. "This must've been some huge battle."

"Everyone split up," Leia advised. "Search for Yoda. Be quick, he could be hurt."

"How many places on this planet can a short Jedi hide?" grumbled Forenze.

"I'll go back to the Falcon and get some lights," volunteered Lando, suiting actions to words.

"Grab a medkit while you're at it!" Han shouted at his back.

Dazed, Vader turned to scan the scene of the titanic struggle. Where had Yoda gone? He was still in so much shock, he couldn't think straight. He'd never considered that Yoda could die, could be defeated in a fight…

Chewie bellowed.

"Found him," Han announced grimly. "Forenze, we need your expertise."

"What's the matter…" she began, jogging over. "Stang! No, don't touch him, you never touch an injured person until a doctor looks at them, you idiot!"

Feeling a great surge of relief, Vader ran toward the far end of the clearing, where Chewie and Han stood by a great tree that had been half-felled by a brutal lightsaber slash.

"Don't look," ordered Forenze, voice rough, putting up an arm to halt their progress. "This could haunt you for life."

"He's our Master," Luke said firmly, and he stepped around her. Vader followed suit.

Yoda lay in a pool of murky water, so still that for a dreadful moment Vader feared he was dead. Burns covered his body. One arm hung at a crazy angle as if broken. His left ear had been sheared off entirely, and the entire left side of his face was black with saber burns. A little ways away lay his lightsaber, smashed against a rock and its components scattered in the mud.

Luke turned away and was quietly sick in the undergrowth. No one embarrassed him by watching or commenting.

Forenze knelt and began cutting away Yoda's charred robes with a small knife. The tiny Jedi groaned and opened one eye.

"Vader… Luke… good to see… you again… it is."

Tears of shame and grief fell behind Vader's mask as he fell to his knees beside his stricken master.

"Don't try to talk, Master Jedi," Leia urged. "Forenze needs to stabilize you before we can get you to the Alliance and a medbay…"

Yoda's good arm came up to grip the medical officer's arm, staying her hand. "Nine hundred I am, Princess," he told her softly. "Lived a long life… I have. Rest I can… forever sleep. Earned it I have."

Forenze hesitated, then lowered her arm. What she had just heard from Yoda was the equivalent of a living will forbidding medical interference.

"Master Yoda, you can't die!" Luke protested hoarsely, kneeling beside Vader. "We need you! We've come to complete the training!"

"Please, Master," Vader pleaded, and he carefully gathered the ancient Jedi in his arms. "We can't go on alone."

Yoda was silent a moment, his chest heaving as if it were taking all his energy to simply stay alive.

"No more training do you require," he said at last.

They stared at him a moment. It seemed too much to comprehend. They were truly Jedi?

Yoda must have read their thoughts, because he shook his head slightly, grimacing as the injudicious movement stretched the burned skin of his neck. "No… not yet. One thing remains." He drew a deep, shuddering breath. "The Emperor." His eye fixed Vader's in a penetrating look. "You must… confront… the Emperor. Only then…. Jedi Knights you will be."

Vader closed his eyes against the remembered agony of Bespin. Confront the Emperor! Yoda asked too much. He couldn't face that monster again. The last time…

"Remember you do, Vader?" Yoda inquired. "Your memory…. revealed it to you… the Emperor did?"

He nodded.

"Unexpected this is… and unfortunate."

"Unfortunate?" repeated Luke. "Unfortunate that he now knows who he is? Unfortunate that he has his past back?"

"Unfortunate… that rushed to face him… he did," Yoda corrected. "Not ready… for the burden… were you, Vader."

"I'm so sorry," Vader whispered, shaking with emotion. "For the Order, for leaving Dagobah… for everything…"

"Vader…" Yoda's mouth curved in a weak smile. "Forgiven you are." He coughed. "Luke… Vader…"

They both leaned in close to catch Yoda's next words.

"When I am gone… the last of the Jedi… you will be. Remember… your training. Remember… and beware the dark side… or suffer Kain's fate you will. Trust in each other… in your bond… for it will strengthen you…"

His final words came so quietly that they had to strain to hear them.

"There is… another… Sky… wal… ker…"

The moment those last words fled his lips, an expression of total peace flooded his features, as if his one reason for living had been to impart that secret. Vader felt the body in his arms relax as the last Jedi of the old Order died.

"Luke," whispered Leia, on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry."

Chewie's enormous paw gripped Vader's shoulder comfortingly.

"Darth…" Han began, but no more words would come.

Lando, who had entered the meadow mere moments ago, stood soberly a few meters away, not wishing to intrude on the solemn moment.

Vader laid Yoda's body on a dry patch of ground and got to his feet. He didn't want to be here, amidst the signs of his Master's violent death. He didn't want to think about it… he couldn't… he couldn't even look at the body again, for that would make it real, final, irrevocable…

/Someday I will be the most powerful Jedi ever! I will even learn to keep people from dying/

His own words returned to mock him cruelly. No, he couldn't make such a vow again! He had sunk so low after her death, had betrayed all he had once stood for, had sold his very soul to the powers of Hell in exchange for his own chains of darkness…

"What the fwup?" swore Forenze.

He followed her gaze to Yoda… or rather, his empty robes. His body had vanished.

-

Han had parked the Falcon in the old training meadow close by, and it was in the freighter where everyone had spent the past four hours. No one spoke much; even the usually chatty Threepio was quiet. Luke himself had spend those four hours in a fog, still trying to cope with the fact that, for the second time in his life, he'd lost a Jedi Master and good friend.

The first hour or so had been full of sympathies and if-onlys – if only he and Vader had stayed to complete their training, if only they had been a little quicker in getting to Dagobah, if only they had convinced Yoda to submit to medical treatment. But in the end, Luke realized that anything done differently wouldn't have made much difference. Yoda had known it was his time, and he had gone peacefully. He wouldn't want his students to blame themselves for his passing.

"What did he mean anyhow?" Han asked finally.

"About what?" asked Luke.

"Something about your bond," Han pressed. "That it made you stronger somehow. I know you two are friends… unless this has something to do with the fact that Vader killed your father…"

"That story is flawed," Vader replied. He was staring out the viewport, hands clasped behind his back, the picture of melancholy contemplation. "Anakin Skywalker was indeed destroyed by Darth Vader, but not in the physical sense."

"What do you mean?" asked Leia.

Vader's head turned slightly. "We have to tell them, Luke. Now is as good a time as any."

"I know…" Luke replied. "Father."

Leia went white. "Father!"

"I am Luke's father," Vader replied. "I fell to the dark side and renounced the name of Anakin Skywalker, becoming Darth Vader. Luke is my son. We are bound by ties of flesh and blood."

"Stang…" breathed Han.

Chewie added a remark of his own, but Luke didn't catch the meaning.

"Well, that adds a whole new layer to this story," said Lando.

"I know already," Forenze admitted. "I heard through the door back in the medbay at Bespin."

Vader snorted. "I should have known you'd do something of that nature."

Leia embraced Luke. "Luke, how long have you known?"

"Since just before Kain captured you and Han," Luke replied. "Yoda told us. We didn't feel comfortable sharing it for awhile…"

"Luke, you could have told me anytime. You know that."

He smiled. "It's not a bad thing at all, Leia. In fact, now that he has his memory back, I finally have had a chance to get to know my father."

She smiled in return. "You've wanted that for years, haven't you? I can't begrudge you that."

Vader had turned to watch them, and Luke thought he looked oddly amused.

"But Yoda spoke of another," Lando put in. "'There is another Skywalker.' Was he referring to Darth, or do you have a twin someplace?"

"I don't know," Luke confessed. "I certainly don't have a twin, but…"

"The other Yoda spoke of is your twin sister, Luke," Vader replied.

Everyone turned to stare at him.

"I don't have a sister!" Luke protested, looking stunned all over again.

"You do," Vader explained. "You were separated from her shortly after birth. Obi-wan hid you on Tatooine, leaving you in the care of my stepbrother Owen. Obi-wan knew that if the Emperor ever discovered the existence of my children, he would either destroy them or use them to further his own base purposes. Thus, even I did not know of your sister's existence until I left Tatooine to visit Naboo a week ago."

He had everyone's rapt attention now.

"Your mother has passed away, Luke, but her family still lives on Naboo," Vader went on. "They revealed to me that she had borne twins, and that your sister was taken to Alderaan to live."

"But that would mean she's dead," Han insisted. "Alderaan was blown up, remember…"

"Leia," Luke breathed. He turned toward Leia with a wondering expression. He knew it was her. Somehow, deep down, he'd always known. She was his sister.

Leia looked away, open-mouthed and stunned. She pressed her fingers to her mouth as if to stifle a cry.

"Leia!" Han embraced her tightly.

"I know," she sobbed. "Somehow I've always known."

"It's okay," he told her. "It's all right."

"Forgive me, Leia," Vader told her. "I wish I could have been there for you and your mother. But I cannot undo the harm I inflicted upon her or our children. I only ask that you give me a chance to try and be a father to you again."

She stared at him a long time, tears flowing down her cheeks. "I have to know," she murmured. "Please. I need to know about her… about you. Why did you do what you did? I have to understand."

He took her hands in his own, her fingers looking fragile in his black-gloved grasp. "You deserve to know, my daughter."

Chewie cuffed Han's shoulder with a bark.

"Oh, uh, yeah, we'll go power up the Falcon," Han said. "Give you some privacy. We'll carry the X-wing and Angel back."

"I have a date with the bathing unit," Forenze said, standing and striding out of the room.

"I have to… uh… I'll go," Lando added rather lamely.

Luke laughed a little as the Skywalker family sat down together for a heart-to-heart discussion, together again for the first time in over twenty years.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Han swore heartily as he extracted himself from the Falcon's shield generator. Just his luck. While he'd been Jabba's wall hanging, somebody – hopefully Vader but most likely Lando – had gone and given his ship a complete overhaul. A year ago he had known all of the Falcon's quirks and bugs, but now he was going to have to familiarize himself with the ship all over again.

Wiping his hands on his pant legs, he headed for the cockpit, pausing by the passenger area to eavesdrop a moment. Vader was speaking at the moment – stang, who would have believed he was Luke and Leia's father! – and he managed to catch part of it.

"…told me that we would be living a lie, one that would destroy us. In a way, she was right. In keeping our union secret, it filled our lives with fear – and fear is an easy path to the dark side. There was a terrible scandal when our marriage was discovered, and she eventually lost her Senatorial position because of it. And I… well, you know the story."

"I remember Mother," Leia said so softly that Han had to strain to hear her. "My real mother… Bail said she died when I was very young. She was beautiful but… always seemed sad." A pause. "Now I know why."

"I have no memory of Mother," Luke said wistfully. "I never knew her."

"You both have inherited my strength in the Force," Vader went on, "but you have her heart. She lives on in you. And she would not want you to mourn her death or dwell on your memories of her – or your lack of them – but to live your lives to the fullest."

Han pulled away and departed to the cockpit, feeling as if a storm cloud had just settled in his chest. The viewport showed a dazzling view of hyperspace, but he'd seen it so many times that he ignored it. Chewie, Forenze, and Lando were taking advantage of the time in hyperspace to play a round of sabaac, but Han made no move to join them. He simply flopped into the pilot's seat and stared blankly into space.

"Han, why don't you at least smile?" Lando remarked. "It won't break your face, you know."

Han glared at him. "Drop dead."

Chewie barked an inquiry.

"Sure, I'm fine," he grumbled. "Two of my best friends and the woman I love all turn out to be related." He shook his head. "You know, I thought I had a chance with her before, but now…"

"What do you mean?" asked Lando.

"C'mon, Lando, she's Darth Vader's daughter! You think she – or he, for that matter – is going to settle for a smuggler for a husband – or a son-in-law? Especially a smuggler who doesn't have a lick of the Force? This changes everything, Lando." With a deep sigh that seemed to rise from his gut, he stared out the viewport. "This changes everything," he repeated quietly.

"Funny," noted Forenze, laying down her cards and sweeping up the jackpot. "You'd think she suddenly grew half a meter and developed a breathing problem."

Chewie roared in laughter.

"You know what I mean, birdbeak," Han retorted.

"She's got a point," Lando replied. "So Vader's her father. That still doesn't change who she is… or at least it shouldn't."

"What if it has, though?" Han said gloomily. "What if she decides that, since she's the kid of a Jedi, I'm not good enough for someone like her and she drops me like a load of spice around an Imperial search party?"

"Then maybe she's not the right woman for you," Lando replied matter-of-factly.

Han closed his eyes. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"If you're that concerned about it, Han, go talk to her," Forenze informed him.

"What, and interrupt her little daddy-daughter talk?" Han demanded. "No thank you."

"Han, Vader's been your friend for years," Forenze retorted. "What are you scared of?"

When he didn't reply right away – as he didn't really have a good answer – she stood, marched over to him, and grabbed his collar. "Honestly, Solo, I have to wonder about you." She hauled him up and shoved him in the direction of the passenger hold. "Get your cocky Corellian derriere in there and talk to your lady!"

Reluctantly – and with Chewie practically shoving him out of the cockpit – he walked to the passenger area and slipped in. Luke, Leia, and Vader were gathered around the holochess table, laughing over some outrageous story from Vader's childhood. Han went to sit at the bench on the other side of the room.

"Hey, Han," Luke greeted.

"Uh… hey," he replied unsurely.

"Come sit by us," Luke offered. "There's plenty of room."

Han refused the invitation. "I'm fine right here."

"You have something to say, Han?" asked Vader.

He shrugged. What could he say? Especially to them? These three had been his only reasons for remaining in the Rebellion. Luke had always been a little brother to him – always needing someone to cover his behind and pull him out of trouble, but always able to make him laugh and smile too. Vader had been an obligation at the start, but he'd evolved into a true friend, a flying companion and someone to talk mechanics and piloting with, not to mention a trusted confidant at times. Leia… the only woman he could ever imagine loving, even after such a rocky start to their relationship…

But that had been a year ago, when Vader was simply an amnesiac mechanic and pilot, Luke a hotshot farmboy who'd made a lucky shot or two, and Leia a princess from a destroyed world. Now… everything had changed. Vader had regained his memory, and in the process he had ceased to be a simple pilot and was a Jedi Knight – and former Dark Lord of the Sith. Luke was no longer just a cocky farm kid and Jedi wannabe – he was a Jedi… and Vader's son. Leia was the daughter of Vader, a possible heir to the Jedi dynasty… in short, even more a princess than ever before. And Han…

Was just Han. Pirate, smuggler, Corellian scoundrel and completely unworthy to be in the presence of the others.

"Han, you can talk to us," Luke encouraged. "We're still your friends."

"Why?" he demanded sullenly. "You're Jedi, you're Skywalkers, you're a lot better than I'll ever be. Why would you want a nobody as a friend?"

"Han!" Leia exclaimed, rising and going to sit by him. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"You're not a nobody!" Luke added, standing.

"I see now," Vader said understandingly. "You're in the same position I was when I first found out Padme was Queen of Naboo. You feel unworthy of our friendship."

"Ain't that the truth," Han grumbled.

Vader stood, the smoky gray Jedi robes he now wore flaring out as he strode over to sit next to his friend. "Han," he said gently, clasping his shoulder, "I owe my life to you. You've guarded my back and protected me from the wrath of those who hated me. You've been my friend and ally, even when no one else would stand by me. You are my friend, and nothing can change that. That alone makes you far more than a nobody."

"You're my friend too," Luke added. "If it wasn't for you, I'd probably be space dust around Yavin right now – or frozen into a glacier on Hoth. We've been friends for too long for something as simple as this to destroy our friendship."

Leia kissed Han's cheek. "I love you, Han. And don't ever think anything will change that."

He smiled, feeling as if a great weight had been removed from him. So nothing had changed after all – at least, not anything important.

"Something else you wanted to say?" asked Luke.

"Well… uh… no," he replied, suddenly feeling uncomfortable all over again, though this time for far different reasons. "Actually, yes… ah… I suppose that… seeing as Darth's Leia's dad… I should be asking…"

"For permission to marry my daughter?" Vader finished.

"Yeah," he said lamely.

"Well, that all depends," Vader said, folding his arms and gazing upon him with mock sternness. "Do you promise to take care of my girl, Solo, and treat her like the princess she is?"

"That all depends," Han retorted. "Can she stand spontaneous jaunts to the Outer Rim, dodging blaster fire, and sharing a bunk with a Wookie?"

Vader flung his head back and laughed. Everyone else joined in.

"Darth," Han said, seriously this time, "you know I'd never do anything to hurt Leia."

"I believe you, Han," Vader replied. "We've been friends for a long time now. I've seen you go beyond the call of duty. I've seen you put your life on the line for those you love. I've seen you prove your loyalty over and over. You've proven to me that you can be a good husband to my daughter. I would consider myself the luckiest father alive to have a son-in-law like you." He reached out and shook Han's hand. "I grand you permission to wed my daughter and bestow my blessing upon you."

Han beamed, blinking. Some dust must have gotten in his eyes. "I'll be good to your girl, Darth. I promise you."

Vader leaned forward, suddenly taking on a menacing air. "You had better, Han. You wouldn't want your father-in-law to snap and have a dark-side episode, now would you?"

"Father, don't scare him," said Luke.

"I know he's joking," Han reassured him. He hesitated. "I hope."

-

The audience chamber of the Home One was packed to bursting with pilots, ground soldiers, tech crews, and members of High Command. Benches groaned under the weight of bodies, and wherever there was a patch of clear floor Rebels stood or sat, packed tightly together to conserve space. A ripple of conversation hung over the room like the drone of an insect colony. Dead center in the mass of men and women, next to a large holographic display, stood Mon Mothma, the dish-eyed Admiral Ackbar, and two men in Imperial military garb – the defector Admiral Piett and a Commander whom most didn't recognize.

"Who're the Imps?" asked Han as their party squeezed into the room, careful to avoid stepping on toes.

"Admiral Piett joined the Alliance on Bespin," Vader replied. "I don't recognize the other, but I suspect he's an Imperial defector as well."

"Wedge, Mela, Rocky, and Piett snuck aboard the Death Star a while ago to gather information," Luke added. "I guess they brought back a friend."

Vader let his gaze sweep the room. Was it like this before the Battle of Yavin – the air of nervous anticipation, dread of the coming battle, hope for victory, bold determination? On that fateful day four years ago, did the Rebellion ever imagine that they would face this awesome titan not once, but twice? Or that in battling the first Death Star, they would gain an ally in the form of Darth Vader?

He smiled beneath his mask. Much had changed since then – both in the Rebellion and in his own life. Four years ago the Rebel Alliance had been little more than a single resistance cell hidden in the ruins of a jungle planet. Now the Rebellion had entire planets pledged to serve its cause, an impressive starfleet, and the backing of the Jedi Order.

And he… he had gone from the Alliance's most hated and feared enemy to a respected member of its forces. He had shed his Sith title and his loyalty to the dark side, gained close friends, and regained his Knighthood. And most importantly, he had rediscovered his family.

Luke stood to his right, clad in brown-and-tan Jedi robes. He flashed his father a smile and touched his mind through the Force.

/Things have changed/ Luke agreed. /For all of us./

/Did you ever think our lives would end up like this/ asked Vader. /That we'd be far more than friends – we'd be a family/

/I'd always thought of you, Leia, and Han as family/ Luke replied. /Just not as blood./

/You don't need to be blood relations to be a family/ cut in a voice that, though familiar, still startled them.

/Leia/ Vader exclaimed.

She arched an eyebrow. /Sorry to spoil your party, but you can't talk secretly like this anymore./

/Aw, Leia…/ whined Luke teasingly. /You've ruined the fun/

/Hey, do I need to separate you two/ Vader said sternly.

Leia's telepathic laughter was so much like Padme's touch/Father, I love you. And I forgive all you've done to me. I pray we can rebuild our family when the war is finally over./

/Thank you, Leia. You truly have your mother's heart./ He reached out and grasped her hand. /Which reminds me… you have an uncle and grandfather on Naboo who would like to see the two of you./

/We'd love that/ Luke replied.

Mothma stepped forward, and the room quieted down to hear her words.

"The Empire has made a critical error, and the time to act is now," she announced. "Our Bothan Spynet has reported the construction of a second Death Star in the Endor system. This station, which is not yet operational, now orbits the Sanctuary Moon of Endor."

A holo appeared of the aforementioned moon, its surface rendered in an unnatural shade of green. A broken red sphere orbited the moon – the Death Star.

"With the Imperial Fleet scattered throughout the galaxy in a vain effort to engage us, it is relatively unprotected," she went on. "But most importantly, we have learned that the Emperor are personally overseeing the final stages of construction."

An excited murmur spread like wildfire through the crowd. This was it, the chance of a lifetime – a shot at the Emperor.

"Many Bothans died to bring us this information," she said in a somber tone.

"Oh goodie," grumbled Forenze. "The med center's probably stuffed with whining, bragging, furry windbags right now."

"And if I know Bothans, they'll be crowing over their sacrifice for the next ten years," Leia added.

Admiral Ackbar stepped forward. "Rogue Squadron, acting under the direction of Wedge Antilles, was able to gain entrance to the Death Star. They have brought back Commander Jerjerrod, the former supervisor of the Death Star Project, who has vital information regarding this battle station."

Jerjerrod stepped up, an eager smile on his face. Vader suspected the man had a bone or two to pick with the Empire.

"Mothma is correct in stating that the weapons systems of this battle station are not yet operational," he said. "However, the station is protected by a powerful magnetic shield created by a shield generator on the Sanctuary Moon."

A yellow bubble encased the Death Star holo to represent the shield.

"If you want to destroy the Death Star, you'll have to take out the shield generator first," he finished.

"Thank you, Jerjerrod," Ackbar replied. "Once the shield is down, Lando Calrissian and Wedge Antilles will lead a squadron of ships into the interior of the Death Star and attempt to knock out the main reactor."

"Good luck," Han murmured to his friend. "You're gonna need it."

Piett stepped forward. "We have stolen an Imperial shuttle from the Death Star. This shuttle, acting under the guise of a cargo ship, will transport a small team to the Sanctuary Moon to take out the generator."

"General Solo, is your team ready?" asked Mothma.

Han grinned. "Ready!"

Mothma nodded. "Then to your stations. We begin at 0600."

"You're in charge of the generator mission?" Lando said in disbelief, punching Han's shoulder.

"Hey, if they're crazy enough to put you in charge of the fleet…" retorted Han.

"Luke and Vader."

Vader turned to see Mothma standing behind them.

"I'd like to see you two in my office," she said.

"Are we in trouble?" blurted Luke.

Mothma smiled amusedly. "No, Skywalker. I have a different mission for the two of you."

They followed Mothma into her sparse but comfortable office. A small durasteel box sat on her desk, gleaming softly in the artificial light. Something about it sent a chill down Vader's spine, but he couldn't place the feeling. For the moment, he put it from his mind.

Once the door shut, she turned to face them. "Princess Leia informed me of your… relation."

Vader nodded. "We apologize for not informing you of it earlier."

"No apologies are necessary," she replied. "It was a private matter. I must admit that I was rather surprised at the news, as I'd believed Vader was responsible for your father's murder."

"It was kind of a shock for us to hear that we were father and son too," Luke said. "But now I wouldn't have it any other way."

She smiled. "Had Vader still been an agent of the Empire when this news surfaced, I'm not sure how we would have reacted. But as the Skywalker family has faithfully served the Alliance for some time, all I can say is that we are proud to have you by our side. You have proven to be worthy allies, and if it's the Skywalker blood that makes it so, then so be it."

"We are always honored to serve," Vader said, bowing.

"And we are honored to have your service, Vader." She turned to the desk and removed the box. "But the Skywalker family is not the only reason I called you here. Vader, I want you to look at this."

He took the box from her and opened it. The chill returned, stronger and laced with pain.

"A Sith holocron? Where did you get this?"

"Chewbacca discovered it on Dagobah," she replied. "We suspect Darth Kain dropped it sometime during his battle with your master or in the rush to leave the planet."

"What's a Sith holocron?" asked Luke, taking the item from his father and examining it.

"Holocrons are crystals used by the Jedi and Sith for recording history, information, messages, and images," Vader replied. "Lord Sidious – whom you know as Emperor Palpatine – was fond of them. Doubtless he has recorded orders for Kain on this holocron."

"Do you need the Force to access it?" asked Luke.

"Usually," Vader replied. "Though sometimes a message can be decoded by a non-Force-user, if it's incorrectly encrypted."

"Our technicians found just such a fragment of information," Mothma told him, turning to her desk and activating a holo. "This is all we could find."

Vader felt a jolt of recognition. "Byss. The Sith fortress on Byss. It can be no other."

"The Sith have a fortress?" Luke asked, awed at the sight of the forbidding, looming edifice.

"The Byss fortress was built by the original Sith Order over a thousand years ago, before the Sith Wars," Mothma replied. "It was abandoned after the Wars, but we have suspected that the Emperor continues to visit it and transact some sort of business there."

"You're correct," said Vader. "The Order continued to use the fortress as a training ground and archive while the Sith remained in hiding. The Emperor and I made frequent visits…" He shuddered. "When my memory returned to me, I vowed to never go back."

Mothma deactivated the holo. "We can only conclude from this that the Emperor is sending Kain to Byss. Why we are not certain, but if it's recorded in the holocron…"

Vader probed the crystal with the Force, passing through barriers and seeking its secrets. The deeper levels were locked, impenetrable to his touch, but he was able to call up an image of a chamber – a chamber whose walls were lined with other holocrons.

"The Sith Archives," he realized. "Kain must be furthering his training."

"Are you certain?" Mothma asked.

He shook his head. "There is other information in the holocron, but it can only be accessed by the dark side."

"And I will not ask you to resort to that," she replied, taking the holocron from him. "Vader, I know you have no wish to return to Byss, but can I ask you to go there one more time? If we are to prevent the Sith from becoming stronger, we will need to intercept Kain or destroy the Sith Archives. And I feel this is a mission more appropriate for the Jedi Order than for the Alliance."

He hesitated, then nodded. "I will go."

"I'll go with him," Luke volunteered.

"Thank you," she replied. "The Rebellion is always grateful for the aid of the Jedi. You are dismissed."

Luke headed out. Vader paused a moment to talk to Mothma.

"The Gungans of Naboo wish to serve the Alliance in any way they can," he told her. "They await a Rebel representative."

"We shall send a transport. Any who wish to aid us in the battle against the Death Star are welcome to do so." She shook his hand. "May the Force be with you."

"And may the Force be with you," he replied.

/We're going to need it/ Luke put in. /All of us./


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Anakin."

Vader opened his eyes, puzzled. He should have been sitting in the cockpit of the Desert Angel, awaiting his emergence from hyperspace. But he found himself in the gardens of the Jedi Temple, in a meditative stance and with Luke by his side.

"Anakin."

He turned slightly. Walking down a gravel pathway, smiling fondly, was Qui-gon Jinn.

"Don't be alarmed, Anakin," Qui-gon told him. "You're neither dead nor hallucinating."

"Am I dreaming then?" he asked.

"In a sense," Qui-gon replied. "Dreams are normally the mind's means of sorting out the day's memories, but dreams can also put their dreamer into deeper touch with the Force."

Luke opened his eyes. A puzzled frown furrowed his brow. "Who are you?"

"An old friend of your father's, Qui-gon Jinn," he replied.

His eyes widened in recognition. "I remember! Yoda gave my father your lightsaber!"

"As I wished him to," Qui-gon said with a smile. "Come, let's walk a ways together." He extended a hand toward Luke.

"This is too bizarre," Luke murmured as he accepted Qui-gon's aid in standing. "We're sharing a dream and talking to a dead Jedi."

"If this is the most bizarre thing that has ever occurred in the Force, then I'm a nerf herder," Vader retorted with a laugh.

They strolled through the gardens, simply reveling in their surroundings for a moment. The Jedi Gardens had been a haven of peace, both for adherents to the Order and citizens of Corusant – they had been one of the few areas of the Temple that were open to the public. Unlike the government-owned parks and most private gardens, these grounds had been untouched by modern landscaping and were only minimally tended, ensuring that the greenery remained as close to its natural state as possible. Plants, trees, and shrubs from all over the galaxy grew wild, and birds and insects added a constant background thrum.

"You've come far, Luke and Anakin," Qui-gon told them, ducking underneath the bud-heavy boughs of a flowering tree. "Obi-wan, Yoda, and I are all quite proud of you."

It took Vader a moment to find the words. "Qui-gon… I… I'm sorry that I failed you."

"And how exactly did you fail me?" Qui-gon asked, looking rather amused.

"How didn't I?" he replied. "I turned against the Order, I slaughtered so many Jedi, I destroyed all this…" He gestured about him to indicate the garden and Temple. "All in the name of the dark side. You thought me the Chosen One, but how could the Chosen One cause so much destruction?"

"You are the Chosen One," Qui-gon assured him. "That cannot be changed. But even prophecy doesn't prevent one from making his or her own choices."

"The Chosen One?" Luke repeated, puzzled.

"The prophecy of the Chosen One," Qui-gon explained, "is as old as the Order itself. According to the prophecy, the midichlorians themselves would father a Jedi stronger than any other, one who would bring balance to the Force. When I met your father, Luke, and learned the circumstances of his birth, I knew without a doubt that he was the one foretold to bring balance."

"But I never brought balance…" protested Vader.

"You will," Qui-gon replied with a gentle smile. "You will."

The certainty in the old Master's voice and expression only unsettled Vader. Qui-gon had placed so much faith and expectation on a slave boy who had grown to become the most infamous Sith in the history of the galaxy. How could Vader live up to the ideals of the Chosen One when he didn't even know what those ideals were? He had no desire to disappoint Qui-gon, but when he had already done so much evil, how could he hope to bring the balance?

They reached a simple wooden bridge that crossed a wide stream, the sole manmade artifact in the gardens. Qui-gon stepped onto the planks and leaned against the railing, staring into the waters. His expression darkened, betraying an enormous weight of worry. Concerned, Vader walked across the bridge to stand beside his Master's teacher.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I was sent to warn the two of you," he replied gravely. "Your mission to Byss is far more than you realize."

"Kain knows we're coming, doesn't he?" asked Luke.

Qui-gon nodded. "The Sith will meet you at their fortress. They intend to convert or destroy you. This will quite possibly be the most difficult challenge you will ever face." His eyes took on a faraway look. "I fear that only one Order will survive this battle."

Vader's grip on the railing tightened as realization struck. The prophecy!

"Yes, Anakin," Qui-gon replied as if reading his thoughts. "The mortal battle between the Jedi and the Sith will be yours to fight."

At once the pieces fell together. For the first time in decades, his life was beginning to make sense. All his life he'd questioned his destiny as the Chosen One, attempted in vain to decipher it, even denied it entirely. And now, at long last, he would fulfill his calling and redeem himself… or die trying. He wouldn't let himself consider a second fall to the dark side.

"You won't fight alone," Luke said firmly, clasping his father's shoulder. "I'll be by your side every step of the way."

"If you choose to aid your father in his battle, Luke, you must realize that there can be no turning back," Qui-gon warned.

"I won't let him fight Kain and Palpatine alone," Luke insisted.

"Very well," Qui-gon replied. "You both must use utmost caution. The Sith fortress is a place of powerful evil – more so than any other place in the galaxy. There are forces within that will try to entrap or smother you. Kain and Palpatine will be at the utmost height of their power as long as they are within its walls. If you are to defeat them and their legacy of darkness, you must utilize all you have been taught. Remember that the dark side can appear to be desirable, but in the end its power will enslave you. Trust in the Force… and in your bond of love."

"Wait a minute," Vader countered. "Whatever happened to 'a Jedi shall not know love?'"

"Here we go again," Qui-gon said with a roll of his eyes. "You know, I'm infamous in the Jedi Order for being its resident heretic, and I think that's the one part of the Code I've taken the most issue with."

"I don't understand it either," Luke said. "Why forbid love? To me, love is the opposite of hatred. Since the dark side is based in hatred, why wouldn't the light side be based in love?"

"A good question," Qui-gon replied. "Perhaps your father can answer it for you."

"Qui-gon…" protested Vader.

"Anakin, this wound has festered in your heart for years," he interrupted gently. "In sharing your pain with Luke, perhaps that wound can finally begin to heal."

He wanted to argue further, but he couldn't. "Very well. All emotions are closely linked, Luke. For every positive emotion, there is an opposing negative emotion that nonetheless evokes a similar reaction and, in some part, stems from that positive emotion and can even coexist with it on occasion. Excitement and panic, for example, are expressed similarly but are vastly different at their core – for one stems from happiness, the other from fear. The same applies to joy and anger, serenity and despair…"

"Or love and hate," Luke finished.

"Or love and hate," Vader agreed. "And under the wrong circumstances, a positive emotion can rapidly mutate to its negative counterpart."

"The Order knew all this," Qui-gon added. "And rather than risk a Jedi being seduced by the 'dark sides' of their emotions, they incorporated Codes that would reduce or eliminate such emotions. Jedi were conditioned to put aside their personal pleasures and fears, to avoid getting involved in situations that might trigger those feelings, and to put their duties ahead of their own passions and desires… or even their lives."

Vader recalled the Emperor's scathing denunciation of the Jedi at their last encounter –_ "There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no fear, no anger, no joy, no despair, and most blasphemously, no love. Only duty. Only mindless, undeterred, unquestioned loyalty toward whatever pet project the Council has pledged itself to. The negative emotions are forbidden – they only lead to the dark side. The positive emotions are forbidden – they only lead to negative emotions and, again, to the dark side. All emotion is evil because it makes Jedi think, question, and stray. And so the Jedi have erased emotion entirely from their Order."_

"But in my honest opinion," Qui-gon continued, "such measures only made the problem worse."

"What do you mean?" asked Luke.

"I'll give you an example. On Corusant, someone is killed in a traffic accident every five seconds. A startling statistic, yes, but how does one react to it? Would the answer be to barricade oneself in their apartment and avoid any travel whatsoever? That would be an option, but in doing so one would cut themselves off from ever escaping their comfort zone, from exploring the opportunities beyond their self-contained world. The more viable solution would be to exercise caution when driving, to obey the traffic laws and use common sense in the traffic lanes. And yes, there would still be the possibility of being involved in an accident, but that risk can be reduced if care is taken."

"I understand," Vader replied. "If one seeks to avoid the danger by avoiding the situation, they can never learn and grow from the situation. They can face the situation, but do so with caution and preparation."

"This is not to say that you simply jump blindly into every situation," Qui-gon replied. "You don't jump off a cliff or smoke a death stick just to see what it's like. You use your own judgment, your own brain, rather than relying on someone else's judgment."

Luke nodded. "The Order decided to ban the possibility of a Jedi falling to the dark side by simply banning emotion. But in doing so they denied their adherents the privilege of ever experiencing the joys of love, parenthood, and true friendship. If the Jedi were allowed to experience emotions, but were encouraged to exercise caution and learn to control the darker emotions, they would have been strengthened."

"And there never would have been reason to expel Anakin from the Order for his actions," Qui-gon finished. "And he wouldn't have fallen."

Vader shook his head. "The Order will have your hide, Qui-gon, for saying they brought their destruction upon themselves."

"They should have known," Qui-gon replied, "that you couldn't do it alone, Anakin. That you would need the aid of an equal, a comrade… a son."

Luke's jaw dropped.

"Yes, Luke, you share your father's destiny. You may not be the Chosen One, but as his son, you will play a key role."

Before either of them could say anything in reply, Qui-gon reached over and embraced Vader.

"I must leave you now," he said quietly. "I cannot go where you go."

Vader returned the embrace. "Thank you, Qui-gon, for believing in me. You gave me so much."

"And thank you, Anakin, for bringing me joy," he replied. "I imagine that if I'd ever had a son, he would have been a lot like you."

He couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. "No wonder you never had children."

Qui-gon chuckled. "Take care, young ones. May the Force be with you."

"May the Force be with you," Luke replied.

_Break…_

Qui-gon stayed awhile longer in the representation of the gardens after Luke and Anakin left. Stang, how those two had grown and matured in the last few years! They were fine men, and the Order would be in good hands when they finally became Knights.

Much of the Order, however, did not share Qui-gon's opinion. Oh, there were a few adherents, yes, but Obi-wan was considered biased, as he'd been Anakin's Master. A'Sharad and Aayla Secura were young (comparatively speaking), and their voices didn't carry quite as much weight as the voices of Council members such as Ki-Adi-Mundi and Mace Windu. Their greatest ally was Yoda, who had experienced a radical change of mind after having a chance to train the two Skywalkers, but even with the wise Master on their side, they were greatly outnumbered in their stance supporting Anakin.

He sighed heavily as if trying to expel the apprehension pooling in his chest. Even if Anakin brought the balance, he was far from redeemed. The Order seemed to think that they had been betrayed by the elder Skywalker, and he feared that some sort of justice – vengeance was more like it – would be demanded.

_Break…_

"Cheerful place," Luke muttered.

The fortress of Byss loomed before them, a stark black shadow against the blood-colored fires of sunrise. The basalt edifice threw square shoulders against the sky, windowless, with a single doorless entry gaping open like the maw of a beast. On each side of the doorway reared black marble statues of mythic Dathomirian stallions, blazing eyes set with rubies and hooves plated with steel, bony membraned wings flaring wickedly from their shoulders.

"This fortress was built by Darth Bane, the sole surviving Sith after the devastation of the Sith Wars," Vader explained. "He infused its corridors with the dark side, making it a domain of utmost darkness. The Force-strong are known to experience disturbing visions and premonitions within its walls, and it was rumored that any Jedi to enter the fortress will be driven mad by what they see."

They climbed from the cockpits of their fighters and slid to the rocky ground. Side by side they confronted the stronghold, sizing up their foe. The building seemed to stare back at them, almost as if it had been imbued with a sentience of its own.

"Why would anyone want to go in there?" Luke asked.

"You don't understand the dark side like I do, Luke," Vader replied. "It's an addiction, a madness. It holds you captive to its whims. The slightest glimmer of light is agonizingly painful. To a Sith, this is a refuge, a place where they can indulge freely in the dark side."

Luke turned to look at his father. He seemed to be transfixed by the fortress' image, lost in memories.

"You okay?"

He shook his head. "This place… it smothers you… suffocating any light… Palpatine used to bring me here so many times… I now see why."

Luke saw why as well. The Emperor had sought to crush any vestiges of light out of Vader, and what better way than to conduct his training in a place of such overwhelming darkness?

"Let's go back to our ships," Luke suggested. "We can bomb this place from the sky."

"That isn't an option. This fortress is well protected. Palpatine brought it well up-to-date by shielding it and installing gun turrets. We have to destroy it from the inside."

"The question is, will we be able to get in?"

"Of course. Palpatine wants us alive, remember?"

Luke shuddered. "It feels… strange… walking so willingly into a trap."

"They want us to face them on their ground, Luke," Vader replied. "And unfortunately, we have no choice. The best we can hope to do is attempt to flush them out and face them on somewhat equal grounds outside the castle."

"I guess…" Luke replied unsurely.

Vader placed a hand on his shoulder. "But we have an added advantage, Luke. The Sith are backstabbers by nature. The close comradeship that exists between a Master Jedi and his Padawan are nonexistent between the Sith Master and Sith Apprentice. We have the power of love on our side."

That relieved much of Luke's anxiety. "All right then, let's go in."

The doorway loomed before them, as if seeking to swallow them up. Luke stepped forward, but Vader put out a hand to stop him.

"There are security measures," he told him. "I don't think you'll be able to get past them."

"What sort of…"

There was a metallic clattering from the inside of the building, and three droidekas barreled into view. They unfolded and assumed battle stances, their wickedly curved bodies gleaming in the fiery light.

Vader stepped forward, pulled the glove from his left hand, and placed his palm on the curved shell of the foremost droideka's head. The droid whirred a moment, then gave an affirmative beep and folded itself away again, rolling back into the fortress. The others followed suit.

"The lead destroyer has sensors built into it," Vader explained, pulling his glove back on. "The handprints of every Sith ever inducted into the Order are programmed into its memory banks. I may no longer be a Sith, but I can still gain entry into their headquarters if I so choose."

"What if Palpatine had your handprint removed from its memory?" asked Luke.

"Sith records cannot be erased. Part of our own Code, if you will."

Luke recalled something Yoda had once said. "Once down the dark path you start, forever will it dominate your destiny."

"Thank you for the reminder," Vader said quietly, but without any real anger or hurt. "That is what the Sith teach – that there is no leaving their Order. But I hope to prove them wrong."

They entered the fortress. Almost instantly the darkness seemed to enfold them like an icy fog, penetrating their flesh and settling into their bones. The corridors were narrow and cramped, further heightening the sensation that the dark side had closed a tight hand over them. Even the glowpanels set into the ceiling every eight meters or so did little to dispel the gloom.

"Which way?" asked Luke.

"The Archives are located on the third floor," Vader replied. "There are lifts, but if Palpatine truly seeks to capture us, a lift is the worst place for him to corner us."

"Then is there a staircase?" asked Luke.

"This way."

They entered a small but ornate chamber, where a gray ferrocrete stairway spiraled up to the higher levels. The chamber walls had been paneled in golden-brown wood, quite in contrast with the dark hallways, but the atmosphere was no less oppressive. The glaring relief portraits of past Sith Masters carved into the paneling probably didn't do much to improve the mood.

"Eww, who's the woman over there?" asked Luke, making a face.

"She was Darth M'kbeth, Palpatine's master," Vader replied, studying the visage. Darth M'kbeth would have been lovely had her features not been tattooed and twisted into a vicious snarl. "I'm not sure what species she was, but I suspect some sort of half-breed, seeing as most humans don't have fangs or pointed ears."

"Unless those are side-effects of the dark side," said Luke with a grimace.

"The dark side's effects are far more damaging," Vader replied quietly.

"Damaging to its foes, you mean," came a hoarse snarl.

Darth Kain descended the staircase, his saber ignited. His steps were confident, his stance haughty, and he glared down at them with all the contempt of a tyrannical monarch.

Luke and Vader drew their own weapons. They hadn't expected to confront Kain this soon.

Kain sprang, bringing his blade down with staggering force. The weight of his entire body went into the strike that Vader barely deflected. Luke came at Kain from behind, slashing at his vulnerable back, but a second crimson blade hissed to life to block the attack.

Flashes of ruby and sapphire and emerald illuminated the room as Kain battled the two Jedi. Sparks showered the floor, and the tang of ozone burned their throats. For a time, the battle seemed evenly matched between Kain's fury and Luke and Vader's paired attacks.

Vader landed the first blow, taking off Kain's left arm to the shoulder. The Sith screamed in agony. Luke took full advantage of his opportunity, plunging his own weapon into Kain's back and searing through his heart. The Sith collapsed… and vanished.

Luke gaped. Vader shook his head, bewildered.

Kain's sneering laugh filled the chamber.

"It was an illusion," Vader snarled. "They're toying with us!"

"They're hoping we burn ourselves out fighting their demons," Luke said. "They're making the final battle easier on themselves."

Vader extinguished his blade. "I have a very bad feeling about this, Luke."

"I know the feeling," Luke replied.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The tree just behind Han exploded in a shower of flaming splinters. He hit the mossy ground instinctively as blaster fire whined through the air. A white-armored body fell heavily beside him, unmoving, and screams and running footsteps filled his ears.

The ruckus lasted a good thirty seconds, then Chewie's paws clamped around Han and hoisted him to his feet.

"Your courage is inspiring, General Solo," Leia remarked.

"Thanks, Princess," he replied sarcastically.

She chuckled. "Some things never change, do they?"

He grinned. "Stang right."

The Imperial ambush had inflicted little damage to the small party of Rebel demolitionists, thanks to their quick actions and accompanying Gungan warrior allies. One Rebel had suffered a flesh wound to the thigh and two Gungans were being treated for minor burns by their accompanying medic, but that was the extent of the damage.

"Too bad Forenze isn't here," Leia said.

Han snorted. "She'd be whining about being bored or something, I'm sure. Far as I'm concerned, Lando and the Fleet can have her. How far to the shield generator?"

"Southeast five kilometers," she replied.

The party moved on. The Gungans took the lead, spears and blasters ready, their broad feet padding almost soundlessly through the undergrowth. The hard-soled boots of the Rebels created more noise, thunking against rocks and snapping twigs and fallen evergreen needles. By far, though, the worst noisemaker was Threepio, who never let up in his monologue of complaint.

"I seem to be made to suffer," he grumbled. "It's my lot in life. Miserable planet anyhow…"

"Shut up, Goldenrod," Han snapped. "You asked to come."

"Of all the indignities," Threepio sniffed. "I do wonder what Artoo is up to. No good, I'm sure, he's always getting himself into trouble…"

A braided-vine rope pulled taut around the droid's ankles, hauling him off his feet and suspending him upside-down from the limbs of a giant tree like some huge metallic fruit. Screaming and flailing his arms, he cried for help.

"Oh, brother," Han mumbled.

"Somebody cut him down!" Leia ordered.

"Mesa say wesa just leave de whining meccanik," Captain Tarpals muttered.

"Don't leave me here!" Threepio pleaded. "There could be mynocks on this wretched moon!"

"Hold still," Han advised, taking careful aim. "I'm going to shoot you down."

"Shoot me down!" exclaimed Threepio. "Isn't there another way?"

"Got any suggestions?" Han demanded. When none were forthcoming, he aligned his sights with the thick rope. "Okay, on three. One… two…"

But Threepio crashed to the ground without Han's aid.

"Look," breathed a Gungan warrior. "Up dere."

Han followed the alien's gaze. Sitting on the limb from which Threepio had been hanging seconds ago, kicking its stubby legs and gazing at the Rebel party with shining brown eyes, was a tiny furry being in an orange leather hood. In one hand it carried a stone knife, in the other a spear, but somehow these made it look more ridiculous than ferocious. Upon noting it was being watched it chattered in some odd language and cocked its head curiously.

"Whaddaya know, we meet the natives," Han murmured.

"I think it's an Ewok," a Rebel volunteered. "I studied them in an alien science course at school."

"Cute little fellow," Leia noted.

The Ewok jabbered a little longer, then grabbed a vine and swung to the ground, landing near the fallen, moaning Threepio. It stared up at Chewie, awed, then spotted Tarpals and gave a yelp of surprise. Brandishing its spear, it growled threateningly.

That was too much for the Rebels – everyone but Threepio and Tarpals started laughing.

"It's never seen a Gungan before," Leia chuckled. "I don't think he likes you, Captain."

"Mesa shaking," Tarpals huffed sarcastically.

"Somebody tell the little hairball to put the stick down before it pokes somebody's eye out," Han remarked.

At that moment, Threepio sat up. "Oh, my head…"

The Ewok whirled with a cry. It stared at Threepio, gave a wondering murmur, and bowed reverently. Threepio spoke a little to the creature before turning to the others.

"I may be mistaken; he's using a rather primitive dialect," he explained. "But I do believe he sees me as some sort of god."

That only encouraged the laughter.

"Well then, your Worshipfulness," Han snickered, "why don't you use your divine influence to tell him to leave us alone?"

"But sir, it's against my programming to impersonate a deity!" Threepio protested.

The Ewok got to his feet and motioned for the party to follow him. Puzzled but curious, they complied.

_Break…_

Leia watched the Rebels settle down for the night in the Ewok village, confident that they would have the natives' aid in fighting the Empire. Apparently they had suffered enough at the Empire's hand to harbor no sympathy toward the uninvited guests to their moon. Their precious trees had been scorched and razed to make room for paths and the shield generator bunker, their main food sources had either been trampled by stormtroopers and AT-STs or scared away by their activities, and their people and domestic animals were frequently used for target practice. When Threepio had explained the Rebellion's purpose for being on Endor's moon, the Ewoks had been more than happy to offer aid.

Leia leaned against the fence of a small corral, where Endor ponies munched lazily on dried grass and berries. She scratched a young mare's neck absently, all the while thinking of Luke and Vader.

She had known all along, she realized. Deep down she'd always felt a bond between her and Luke. He'd been a source of brotherly wisdom and companionship, always willing to cheer her up or joke with her. And Vader… she couldn't hate him anymore. He had proven himself to the Rebellion as a worthy ally and comrade. He had, in her eyes, redeemed himself of all the crimes he had committed against her and her people. She was ready to call him Father.

/I sure hope they're okay/ she thought, staring into the night sky.

"Leia?"

She turned to see Han coming down the path, the moonlight shading his features.

"You all right?"

She nodded, though she knew the tears forming in her eyes said otherwise. "I just hope… Luke and Vader are okay."

Han embraced her comfortingly, his lips brushing her forehead. "Those two have been through a lot, Leia, and they've come through all right. They're tougher than you think."

She buried her head in his shoulder. "But Kain's defeated Luke before."

"Luke's grown a lot stronger since then," Han assured her. "And he has Vader on his side. They can take him."

She stayed awhile in his arms, not wanting to leave the comfort of his presence. He held her a long time as they enjoyed the last moment of peace they would know for awhile.

_Break…_

Luke and Vader reached the third floor of the fortress without any further mishap. Their encounter with the stronghold's illusions had instilled a good deal of caution in them, serving as a reminder that, for all their strength in the Force, they were still in enemy territory.

"Where to now?" asked Luke.

"The Archives are in the center of the fortress," Vader replied. "They are well protected, and there will be many traps along the way. Follow my lead."

He complied, letting his father show the way. They continued a short way down the hall before Vader came to a halt.

"The first obstacle," he noted. "Stay where you are, Luke."

"Why?" asked Luke. "I don't sense anything dangerous." He didn't see danger either; all he could see were basalt walls and a shining black marble floor shot through with gray and gold.

"Danger is not always visible to the senses," Vader replied, going back to the stairway and igniting his saber. He sliced off a section of the wooden stair rail and brought it back, lowering it to the floor. It sank into the marble without leaving a mark.

"The floor's holographic," Luke realized. "There must be a pit underneath…"

The rail bucked in Vader's hand, and a hideous snarling and crackling ensued. He lifted the now-mangled rail and showed it to Luke.

"Worse," Vader replied. "One of Palpatine's pets. I've never seen it with my own eyes, and frankly, I don't care to. Our one stroke of good fortune is that, whatever it is, it cannot escape and attack us as long as we're up here." He tossed the broken rail, and it landed some four meters away on solid floor.

"Thanks for the heads-up," said Luke with a wince.

"Not a problem. Think you can jump that far?"

"Sure." He took a few steps back, then sprinted forward and leaped, drawing on the Force to aid him. He felt the strange sensation of hands supporting his body, then he landed on the far side.

"Why'd you do that?" Luke demanded, turning. "I could have done it by myself."

"Perhaps," Vader replied. "But I'm your father. I'm paranoid by nature when it regards my son."

"Then don't complain when I return the favor," Luke retorted.

Vader laughed and sprang, executing a somersault in midair and landing smartly beside Luke.

"Showoff," Luke complained.

They walked on. The hallway now forked in two directions, one leading deeper into the bowels of the Sith fortress, the other veering toward the outer wall. To Luke's surprise, Vader took the path leading away from the center of the fortress.

"What are you doing?" asked Luke.

"This corridor doubles back and goes toward the Archives," Vader replied. "The other one dead-ends into a chamber that locks and fills with poison gas once someone enters it."

Luke whistled. "The Sith Funhouse."

"Palpatine definitely has a twisted sense of fun," Vader replied.

The corridor they traversed was lined with strange symbols formed from blood-red stone laid into the wall. Luke shivered. He felt as if he was trespassing on the lair of some sinister beast, and that it was watching him all the way, awaiting a moment to strike.

/You're not far off, Luke./ For some reason his father's voice seemed dimmer, fainter.

/It's the fortress/ Vader explained. /It deadens our perceptions and reduces our ability to draw on the light side. If we're separated, we might not be able to communicate./

/All the more reason to not get separated/ Luke replied.

They emerged in a chamber lined with huge obsidian statues, effigies of past Sith warriors and fearsome beasts from some twisted sculptor's imagination. Vader halted and tensed.

"Get ready to run," he ordered. "One of the ancient Sith master's installed lasers in this chamber. The only way to avoid them is to hurry."

"Okay."

"One… two… three!"

They broke into a Force-boosted run. The eyes of each image glowed red as they passed, and wicked hisses and snaps sounded behind them as the beams narrowly missed their marks. Smoke filled Luke's lungs, burning the already oxygen-starved tissues. He felt himself weakening; it was becoming harder to draw on the Force…

He collapsed to his knees in a gap between two lasers, gasping for air.

"Luke!" Vader, who had reached the end of the chamber, slid to a halt and turned back to help him.

"Watch out!" Luke gasped.

A twenty-meter-tall statue of a Nikto Sith toppled forward, and Vader barely moved in time before the enormous sculpture smashed against the floor, blocking the exit.

"Father!" Luke got to his feet and pounded the statue. "Can you hear me?"

"Sithspawn!" Vader hissed. "I can't get around, Luke!"

"Can you get over?"

"No, it's completely blocking the doorway. Hold tight, I'll try to cut through!"

"It's too thick," Luke replied. "Maybe we can lift it?"

Together they focused, struggling with all their might to shift the statue. But even their combined Force powers weren't enough. The influence of the Sith fortress seemed to be sapping his strength faster than it could be replenished.

"Go back to the stairway," Vader advised at last, acknowledging defeat. "Go to the second floor and take the first passage to your right. It should lead you to the training chambers. There's a lift there, take it. It will take you straight to the Archives. I'll meet you there."

"All right," Luke replied. "Father… you be careful."

"You do the same, Son."

Reluctantly he turned and ran the gauntlet again, though by the time he'd exited the chamber he was exhausted. He leaned against the doorway, panting, trying to ignore the growing sense of dread that filled his chest. Never had he felt so alone.

_Break…_

Vader prayed Luke would be all right as he continued down the corridor. He'd counted on being at the boy's side all the way. He hadn't counted on the machinations of the Sith to split them up. Now Luke was left utterly guideless. Vader could only hope he would keep his wits about him and not attempt anything stupid.

He navigated the maze of corridors carefully, relying on memory to know which paths led to certain death and which led to his goal. All the while he kept his hand near his lightsaber, listening, watching, waiting. He'd be a fool to assume the Sith would leave him unmolested on his way to the Archives.

/Wait a minute/ he thought, coming upon an unfamiliar chamber. /This isn't supposed to be here./

The chamber was less a chamber than it was a widened section of corridor, its ceiling hanging low and polished mirror-smooth. The floor, too, gleamed smoothly. The walls were a different matter – they were covered with wicked spikes of varying lengths and neat round holes of varying depths. A new obstacle? Or just more Sithly interior design?

He took a cautious step into the chamber – and retreated as the walls began sliding inward. They ground to a halt the instant he withdrew, then returned to their original places.

/Well, this is a new one/ he mused.

Removing a glove, he tossed it into the chamber. The walls closed in, and he now saw that each spike fit into a corresponding hole on the other wall. He had to marvel at the brilliant insanity of the Emperor's mind. He swiftly retrieved the glove before the walls could close fully.

/Now how to get past it./ He supposed he could run the gauntlet – he could probably make it to the other side before the walls collided. But somehow he got the feeling that that was what Palpatine wanted him to do. Then again, he could see no way to jam the mechanism or halt the walls' progress once they got going.

/Unless I used the Force…/

He delved into his power, feeling for the machinery that controlled this trap. To his surprise, he encountered a switch, hidden from view but accessible by the Force. So this chamber was designed to trap those Force-blinds brave enough – or naïve enough – to chance a journey into the Sith bastion. He tripped the switch and entered the room, pleased to note that the walls were mercifully still.

"Vader."

He whirled, saber drawn but not yet ignited.

A child stood at the chamber's entrance… a Tusken child. Had the dark side sparked another illusion? Or had he accidentally triggered a hologram of some kind?

The child lifted a hand, pointing at him. In a soft, oddly menacing voice she breathed _"Shil-baka."_

_Shil-baka._ Tusken for "slaughterer." One of the highest insults one could speak in the Sandpeople's tongue, it referred to one who had shed innocent blood. According to the Tusken laws, one could be put to death at the mere accusation of _shil-baka_. Vader knew, without a doubt, that this could only be one of the Sith's illusions.

_"Shil-baka,"_ the Tusken girl repeated.

"I am redeemed of that crime," he replied in the Tusken language. "I have repaid my debt to your people by destroying Jabba. I am no more _shil-baka_ than you are."

"Who says it is only her people you have wronged?" came an older, rougher voice.

A Fosh woman entered the room, wearing a deep green robe and with dark amber eyes that contained an unfathomable sadness. He was struck by how much she resembled Forenze. The woman stepped behind the Tusken child and placed clawed hands on the girl's shoulders, regarding Vader somberly.

"Siyax Vergere," Vader realized. "You're Forenze's mother."

She nodded. "So you remember me."

He closed his eyes and thrust the memory of the alien uprising – and the subsequent massacre he had spearheaded – from his mind. "Your daughter has forgiven me of that crime…"

The grief in her eyes deepened. "Who says that she speaks for her parents, Vader? Who says that any of the living can speak for the dead? You cannot beg forgiveness from one you have slaughtered with your own hands."

"Siyax, not a day goes by that I don't regret my past. I admit to taking hundreds upon hundreds of lives while I served the dark side. But I will do all I can to repay the damage I have wrought, even if it takes the rest of my life."

She shook her head. "You can never repay, Vader, not in a thousand lifetimes. You are a murderer, a destroyer, a harbinger of death, and there is no hope for you."

_"Shil-baka,"_ the Tusken repeated in a softer whisper, her voice now sounding like the hiss of a serpent. "Murderer. Destroyer. Sith. Servant of darkness. _Shil-baka."_

Vader turned and strode out of the chamber, away from the ghosts of his past, trying to block out their voices. But their condemning murmurs followed him like some twisted melody, replaying over and over in his mind, drowning out all other thought. Sith… murderer… destroyer… _shil-baka_… servant of darkness… no hope… no hope…

"Enough!" he bellowed. "I'm not a murderer!"

/Are you so sure/ the wicked cackle of Palpatine's Force-touch sneered. /Are you so sure that you're free from the dark side, my young apprentice/

He shuddered at the Emperor's contact. /Leave me alone/

/Ah, but I can't, can I? You're intruding on our territory, Vader, which can only mean one of two things. Either you have some destructive purpose in mind and are a threat to be crushed… or you've changed your mind and seek to rejoin me./

/I'll never join you! I die first/

/That, my friend, can easily be arranged./

_Break…_

By the time Luke reached the broken rail marking the edge of the pit, he was drained. The atmosphere of this fortress was leaching his strength like a parasite. The four meters of holographic floor that he'd crossed so easily before now seemed four kilometers.

/Well, I can't stay here, can I/ he thought, and he braced himself for the jump. /One… two… three/

He made it three-quarters of the way across. The false floor swallowed him up, and he struck a damp stone wall before tumbling roughly to the hard floor of the pit. Dazed, it took him a moment to regain his senses.

The chamber he'd just landed in was pitch-black and smelled like a slaughterhouse. The floor beneath him was covered with dried, splintered bones, some of them snapping and crunching with age beneath him as he scrambled to his feet. Somewhere in the darkness, a deep wheezing and growling could be heard as whatever-it-was snuffed around, trying to seek its prey. Taking no chances, he ignited his saber.

The blue light illuminated the visage of a thing from Luke's worst nightmare. The beast's blunt-muzzled head was a fanged nightmare, huge nostrils quivering to catch his scent, sightless white eyes rolling blankly in deep narrow sockets. Its pale gray, hairless skin hung limply from its bones, with seemingly no flesh to pad its skeleton. Its paws bore scythe-like claws as long as Luke was tall, and a forest of spines covered its shoulders and trailed down its spine, ending in a tail covered with wicked barbs. Its primitive thoughts struck his mind like a blow from a decayed hand – it was starving, gripped by agonizing hunger pangs that overwhelmed reason.

The monster's head darted forward with a high rasping scream. Luke fell and rolled to escape its lunge. Shrieking at being denied food, it whirled and slashed with a taloned forepaw. He returned the slash, severing three of the enormous claws. Screams of pain now accompanied the screams of hunger.

In an odd way, Luke felt sorry for the creature. It was another victim of Palpatine, kept on the fringes of starvation to ensure its ferocity and doubtless beaten and tormented to drive it closer to madness. As he had done with Vader and Kain, he was using the beast's pain to further his own devious ends.

As the monster thrust its head down for the kill, Luke ran his weapon through its blinded eye, giving it the mercy of a quick death. The creature rasped once and collapsed.

He extinguished the blade. Now to find a way out of here.

"Well done, Skywalker. Well done."

He turned.

The azure light of his saber illuminated a woman – a woman he'd long thought dead.

"Bekme?"

She smiled and nodded. Her chestnut hair was done up in a carefully tended coif, and she wore the white uniform of Grand Admiral, which had been tailored to fit her graceful curves. Gold epaulets on her shoulders glinted in the dim light.

"That's not how I want to remember you, Bekme," he told her.

"But it is who I am," she replied. "Madam Grand Admiral Olie."

He shook his head. "You'll always be Bekme to me."

In the time it took to blink, her clothing shifted to a worn orange jumpsuit, and her hair fell to her shoulders in a more relaxed style. "Better?"

"Why am I seeing you now?" he asked. "You died four years ago. Why are you here now?"

"Why are you here now, Luke? Answer that."

"To face Darth Kain…"

"You mean to kill him," she replied, her expression going cold. "You killed me and now you seek to kill Kain as well. Is there no end to your bloodthirstiness?"

"I didn't kill…"

"You did, Luke. You shot my fighter down, allowing Kain to kill me. You killed me in anger, Luke. I loved you, but you hated me for merely obeying my Emperor's orders and took out that anger by killing me. And now you will exact revenge upon Kain for defeating you on Bespin by murdering him as well." She gave a grim smile. "Like father, like son, I suppose."

Anger boiled inside him. "Don't you dare say that. My father's not a killer!"

She gave an icy laugh. "Your father has murdered thousands, Luke. And you will follow in his footsteps. You're not that far from turning Sith yourself."

He backed away, suddenly fearing her more than he'd feared Palpatine's monster. "I am not a murderer, Bekme. I shot you down hoping the Alliance would capture you. How was I supposed to know Kain was going to blow your ship up? And I seek to fight Kain in order to defeat the Sith Order and restore justice to the galaxy, not to gain vengeance."

"Really, Skywalker?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow. "Is that really the answer?"

She faded away with an ominous laugh.

Luke shivered. This fortress was really starting to get to him.

To the left of where Bekme's specter had been standing, he spotted an ancient door whose hinges were rusted completely shut. He seared through the hinges with his saber and kicked the door open, entering another corridor. Time to find a lift and get to the Archives before another ghost paid an unwelcome visit.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"He's in the Archives."

Kain glanced up from tuning his weapon. "Who?"

Palpatine gave a feral grin. "Who else? Skywalker."

"Which one?"

"The elder."

Kain feigned interest, but in truth he could have cared less about Vader. The man was an annoyance to be disposed of at convenience. As far as he was concerned, the Emperor could have his way with him.

Luke, though… oh, the thought of that upstart farm boy who had the nerve to call himself Jedi made his juices boil. He clenched his robotic hand, fury coursing through his veins. He would have his vengeance yet. He would make young Skywalker suffer, sink to the very depths of agony until he pleaded for the mercy of death…

"Go to the Archives, Lord Kain," Palpatine ordered. "Engage Vader in battle."

Kain twisted his lips in a snarl. His master would deny him his revenge and send him after that scum of a traitor to the Sith Order?

"Go, my apprentice," Palpatine repeated. "I'll see to young Skywalker."

Kain straightened, looking his master in the eye. "No."

Palpatine cocked an eyebrow, amused. "No?"

"I will not fight Vader," Kain hissed. "I will not allow you to fight the battle that is rightfully mine to wage."

The Emperor laughed mirthlessly. "So the apprentice will think to order the master around, never thinking that there might be a purpose, an ultimate goal, to his superior's orders."

He growled wordlessly under his master's mocking words.

"Use the gray matter in your dense skull, young one," Palpatine went on. "You want revenge? To make Skywalker suffer? What could wound him more deeply than to watch his father die?"

That cleared the fury from his mind like a hand brushing away cobwebs. This was it – the ultimate vengeance. The terrible legacy of bloodshed between the Jedi and the Fett family would come full circle. As his childhood self had looked on in terror as an emotionless Jedi Master had brutally murdered his father, so would Skywalker witness the destruction of his father at the hands of Kain. There could be no sweeter revenge than that.

He bowed low and swept out, eager to begin.

_Break…_

Palpatine watched Darth Kain depart, silently thoughtful. The former hunter was an excellent warrior, there was no denying that. But if he didn't learn to manage his emotions better, they would be his undoing.

He wondered if he'd made an error in recruiting the cloned mercenary to the Sith cause. Kain had the rage to feed the dark side, yes, but he hadn't the discipline to control it. And as was always the danger with the dark side, there was always the possibility that the power of the Force was driving him insane. That theory was made all the more probable by the fact that he was not a natural Force-sensitive, and his body was unused to the power of the Force.

Oh well. He'd keep Kain around awhile longer. He had his uses. But once Luke was converted…

He smiled wickedly and turned to the nearest door, which had just been kicked open by a reckless intruder.

_Break…_

Luke reached the end of the corridor without further incident, relieved to find the hall terminated in nothing more threatening than a lift. He entered and keyed it to go to the third level.

/I sure hope Father's all right/ he thought. Knowing all the traps and dangers this place presented wasn't a foolproof safeguard against becoming ensnared by them. And there were still the forces of Kain and Palpatine to reckon with.

The lift doors opened, revealing a set of elaborately carved ebony doors. A dark force seemed to pulse behind those doors, as if the chamber behind them contained the black heart of the Sith Order. This had to be the doorway to the Archives, he realized, and he reached for the old-fashioned iron handles, but the door wouldn't budge. Experimentally he kicked the doors… and to his surprise they popped open immediately.

The chamber he'd entered was huge, easily the size of any of the hangars on the first Death Star. The marble walls were the deep dull red of blood, streaked with yellow like jags of lightning. The black steel floor reflected a high vaulted ceiling upon which the swirls and fires of the cosmos had been painted in all their splendor. Instead of glow rods or other electronic light sources, what appeared to be phosphorescent amber gemstones glowed in brackets along the walls. Life-sized statues of former Sith Lords, all crafted of aged bronze, lined the walls. At the end of the chamber, behind a black stone throne, reared a massive statue of a mythical winged dragon, carved from some black stone that winked and shimmered with a thousand colored lights, as if it had been hewn from stars.

/This isn't the Archives/ he thought.

"Welcome, young Skywalker," a deep, hoarse, thoroughly malevolent voice bade. "I have been expecting you."

Emperor Palpatine stepped out of the shadows, leaning heavily on a gnarled cane. His ghostly-pale face, withered and hollowed by age and the parasitic forces of darkness, was twisted in a hideous parody of a smile. He stopped in the center of the room and gazed at Luke like a hungry acklay eyeing a hapless orray.

The doors behind Luke slammed shut with a foreboding boom.

"You never thought the Sith could live amidst beauty, did you?" the Emperor went on, sweeping his hand in an all-encompassing gesture. "A savage beauty, but beauty nonetheless. Many artists and architects came to Byss and contributed to these chambers. And all were well-rewarded for their work with a painless death."

"That's interesting, but I didn't come here to sightsee," Luke replied, his hand on his saber.

"Ah, yes," the Emperor said condescendingly. "You and your father have come on a noble mission." The word "noble" was said with a mocking sneer. "To destroy our fortress. Jedi call their actions noble, while the rest of the galaxy calls them insane."

"If the worst you can do is insult the Jedi Order, then Qui-gon overestimated you."

Palpatine laughed coldly. "Oh no, my young Skywalker. It is you who have underestimated me." He gestured behind Luke. "Look, young Skywalker."

He hesitated, wondering if he was about to fall for the oldest trick in the book.

"I assure you that this is no trap," Palpatine said. "Don't you trust me?"

"I trust you about as far as I can throw a bantha," Luke replied.

The Emperor's grin widened. "You're certainly nobody's fool, Skywalker. You may look behind you if you wish, but I certainly won't force you to."

His curiosity got the better of him, and he turned. A glossy, dark bronze statue glowered down at him, the light of the gems glittering across the aged metal – Darth Vader, in full armor, in all his fearsome majesty.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Palpatine inquired, stepping up beside Luke to admire the statue. "It's somewhat inaccurate – Vader no longer wears most of the armor. But I like to keep it around as a reminder of my conquest of the Order… and the corruption of their Chosen One."

At one time the image of Vader would have deeply frightened Luke. But not now. Now he only pitied the man. The Vader represented by this statue had been little more than an indentured servant, a slave to the dark side, used and manipulated by the Emperor. He couldn't fear or hate him, even knowing that he was responsible for so much bloodshed. After all, how much of that bloodshed had been his own decision… and how much had been ordered by his master?

"I look forward to adding your image at his side, you know," Palpatine said easily. "Like father, like son, after all."

"I won't turn," Luke said firmly. "Your overconfidence is your weakness."

"Your faith in your friends is yours," the Emperor hissed, and he passed a hand over a fixed point on the floor.

The entire wall seemed to wash out as a holographic image burst to life. An image of the Death Star, its unfinished lower half gaping open like an infected wound, dominated the picture. Around the space-bound leviathan swarmed Rebel and Imperial ships – and there were far too many of the latter for Luke's comfort.

"Your 'surprise' attack on my battle station," he gloated. "You see, young Skywalker, it was I who let the Bothan Spynet know of the second Death Star's existence. It was I who let them believe that Kain and I would be aboard it, perfect targets for destruction. And they have absolutely no idea that they are flying directly into the jaws of a trap… right into the arms of the Imperial Armada."

Luke stared in horror at the unfolding battle. It seemed that the entire Imperial Starfleet was surrounding the Death Star, hemming in the Rebels from all sides, blocking off escape.

"And as a special surprise…" The Emperor smiled his most malicious smile yet.

As if on cue a slender burst of green fire lanced from the Death Star, obliterating a medical cruiser.

/It's operational/

Yes, Skywalker," Palpatine cackled. "My Death Star may be incomplete, but its weapon systems are quite functional."

Luke gave the Emperor an incredulous look, then turned back to the scene of the battle.

"Your Alliance is doomed," he went on, "and your friends on the forest moon will not survive. They are no match for the legion of my best men that are stationed there, awaiting their attempt to deactivate the energy shield. The Rebellion has failed, Skywalker. You have failed."

A hatred unlike anything Luke had ever known before boiled within him, burning and building like a long-dormant volcano rumbling to life. He couldn't tear his gaze from the violent battle, couldn't wrench himself free of the white-hot fury that threatened to reduce his reasoning to ash.

"Yes," breathed Palpatine. "Yes. With every passing moment you take one more step in your father's footsteps. With every second you make yourself more my servant."

Luke struggled to gain control of his anger, but it refused to relinquish its hold. He wanted to kill the Emperor with a passion beyond reasoning… he wanted to strike out at the malignant heart of the organization that was killing his friends… even if it meant falling to the dark side…

/No! I won't resort to that! I won't betray the Jedi/

He ripped his weapon from his belt and flung it away as if it were tainted.

Palpatine chuckled. "I almost had you there, Skywalker," he taunted.

"I'll never join you," Luke insisted. "You'll have to kill me."

"Oh, that won't be necessary." He gestured to the other wall, which slid aside to reveal a second chamber, one identical in size to the throne room but with far different contents.

The anger bled out of Luke instantly, replaced by cold damp fear. He charged forward, but a wall of deadly, transparent energy blocked the way.

The Emperor practically roared with laughter.

/Father/ Luke screamed.

_Break…_

Vader pushed open the doors leading to the Archives, a huge chamber that glittered with a thousand stars as light reflected off of the many Holocrons stored here. Three of the walls bore shelf after shelf groaning under the weight of crystals of every shape and size – some the size of a man's thumbnail, others as large as melons. Most glistened in various shades of red – pale red, berry red, blood red, fire-red, and every other shade imaginable – but here and there gleamed a Holocron crafted from yellow, green, or blue crystal. A few of the lower shelves carried more conventional information sources, such as books and datapads, but these were generally few and far between. The fourth wall contained no shelves but was covered with scrawled messages, as if a team of deranged scientists had had a field day scribbling their demented formulas and theories. A single table occupied the center of the chamber, a few crystals sitting atop it, no doubt in the process of having data encrypted into them. The entire room pulsed with a cold energy that seeped into his very core.

Luke was nowhere in sight.

Concerned, Vader entered the room. He prayed Luke had come to no harm. Perhaps he had gotten himself lost, or perhaps he had been here already and left to search for his father…

A blast of sheer darkness hit him from behind, and he spun to face this new threat. What he saw would haunt him forever.

The being that stood in the doorway bore Luke's face, true. And his Force signature resembled Luke's. But this Luke was robed and hooded in jet-black, black battle-armor gleaming underneath. A black-hilted lightsaber, almost identical to the one Vader had wielded years ago, dangled from one hip. The being stepped closer and raised his head to stare directly into Vader's eyes.

An icy hand seemed to close around his heart. His son's eyes were no longer blue, but a bright burning orange like pools of flame.

"Father," Luke said in a soft, oddly sinister voice. "Don't be afraid. What you see has yet to happen. You won't live to see it."

Vader shook his head. "It can't be. Luke would never join the dark side."

The illusionary Luke smiled – but it was a cold, unnatural smile. "Why not? All my life I've wanted to be like my father. Why wouldn't I choose to idolize him further by following in his footsteps… all his footsteps?"

"The Luke I know has had his brushes with the dark side," Vader countered. "On Dagobah, on Bespin… and both times he has emerged more strongly bound to the light than ever. I don't know what you seek to do by making a mockery of my son, but stop now."

The dark Luke's eyes blazed brighter. "Why would I mock my destiny, Father? The Jedi Order is extinct. Its Codes are senseless and outdated. It is time for the Jedi to accept that they have become obsolete, to step aside and stop fighting the inevitable. The Sith are the true masters. And I will elect to throw my lot in with them. You can do nothing to stop that."

The false Luke vanished.

Behind Vader, a lightsaber ignited.

Without conscious thought Vader activated Qui-gon's saber, swinging it upward and behind his back to shield himself from the blow Kain dealt. The Sith growled in rage and struck again, and this time Vader met him face-on, his emerald blade crackling against the shaft of ruby fire Kain wielded. Amber sparks rained onto the floor, alighted on Kain's sable cloak and Vader's gray robes, reflected in a thousand fires from the Holocrons that seemed to watch like so many blood-red eyes.

For a time they seemed evenly matched – the raw fury of Kain against the calm power of Vader, the former's savage angry blows against the latter's calculated parries. The tide of the battle shifted back and forth almost imperceptibly, with first Kain gaining an upper hand, then Vader.

Then Kain sprang like a pouncing nexu, one boot catching Vader in the jaw and knocking him backward. He slammed into the shelves, and Holocrons came crashing down all around him, smashing into scarlet shards on the steel floor. He scrambled to his feet just as Kain's saber plunged hilt-deep into the wall a few centimeters from where he'd been standing minutes ago.

Yanking his weapon free, Kain charged again. This time Vader went airborne, landing on the other side of the heavy table. Rather than go around or over the table to face his foe, however, the Sith simply raised it with the Force and hurled it at Vader. He hit the floor, and the table slammed into the shelves, causing more gems to rain down and shatter.

/Maybe I won't need Luke's help to destroy the Archives/ Vader thought amusedly. /Maybe Kain and I can handle it ourselves./

Kain and Vader circled warily like fighting massifs, their sabers held ready, never taking their eyes off each other. The broken Holocrons at their feet glistened like so many drops of blood in the light of their energy swords.

"Surrender yourself, Vader," rasped Kain, "and I may only cripple you."

"Destroying me will accomplish nothing," Vader replied. "It will only worsen the damage." He gestured to the destroyed Holocrons.

"Do you honestly think I care about the Sith history, fool?" snarled Kain. "About those long-dead warriors and their failed attempts to take control, their glorious dreams without the guts to fulfill them, their apprentices that abandoned the Order, their suicide missions that served only to reveal their ultimate stupidity? No, Vader. The only thing that matters is the present, the here and now, and the only Sith worth remembering are the ones that finally gained power over the galaxy and slew the Jedi." He nodded in his direction. "The death of a traitor will bring more glory to the Sith Order than those represented in this chamber could ever accomplish." He lunged.

Vader parried a succession of blows, keeping himself on the defensive. Hopefully Luke would come in soon, and they could take Kain together. He wasn't sure he could defeat him alone…

With a start he noticed that the graffiti-covered wall had opened up, giving the duelists a view of the throne room. Memories flooded his mind of countless missions assigned to him in that chamber, of kneeling in submission as the Emperor ordered him to commit some atrocity or other, of brutal training exercises conducted there…

Luke stared at him from in that chamber, the gloating face of the Emperor just behind him. His first instinct was to run to him, but a laser wall separated them, promising instant death if either of them sought to breach that transparent barrier.

/Father/ came Luke's cry.

/Luke/

Kain laughed wickedly and slashed again. The Siths' intention hit with a sickening jolt – Palpatine would have Kain kill him before his son's eyes, driving Luke to the dark side. And there was nothing Vader could do to stop that plan from being carried out.

/Luke/ he pleaded/no matter what happens, be strong. Better to die a Jedi than to live a servant of darkness./

There was no reply from Luke. He could only pray his message had gotten through… and struggle to defend himself from Kain's mad wrath.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The Sith fortress was an ominous, angular monument against the rapidly dimming dusk, the fiery rays of the dying sun casting red light like bloodstains upon the jet-black stonework. The stronghold seemed almost alive, breathing, watching the planet silently through all-seeing eyes. As the night began to fall and the shadows lengthened, the building seemed even more foreboding, as if it gained strength and further sentience from the darkness.

It was enough to make even a normally stalwart R2 unit shudder in his tracks with unease.

Artoo Detoo hated this place. Even though he was a droid and technically not supposed to sense the Force, something about knowing this building was the headquarters of the Sith Order made his circuits quiver. The aura this bastion exuded wasn't measurable on any of his sensors, but it impinged on his logic processor like a cold fog anyhow.

He hoped the Skywalkers were okay. He liked Luke a lot, even though the young man had a penchant for getting himself into tight spots. Luke treated droids with respect and care, never acting as though Artoo was a mere machine and incapable of thought and emotion. Artoo thought such respect a fair trade-off for occasionally working the hotshot Rogue out of a troublesome situation.

And Vader… he remembered Vader before he had donned the armor. Having managed to escape the terror of memory erasure, Artoo recalled Anakin Skywalker quite vividly. Adventuresome, loyal, always appreciative of a partner-in-crime, even a mechanical one… in short, he'd treated Artoo as well as Luke had. And when Vader had entered the base, Artoo had recognized him long before anyone else had figured out that he was Luke's father. Sure, the armor hid his body, but no other biological life form walked with that unmistakable gait or used quite that same inflection as he spoke.

Luke and Vader had been the most memorable and respectful masters Artoo had ever known, and to think that some harm might have come to them…

Midnight rolled away from the Desert Angel, hydraulic fluid smearing her glossy black plating. She bleated at Artoo in a tone a droid would have recognized as nagging. In her opinion, he should stop standing around and do something useful, like change the X-wing's fluid filters.

Artoo shook his dome and crooned worriedly. Luke and Vader should have been back by now, he told her. It shouldn't have taken so long for them to get in, blast the Archives into oblivion, and get out. They must have gotten into some kind of trouble.

Midnight would have shrugged dismissively had she possessed shoulders. She replied that humans frequently got themselves into binds, and that they usually managed to get themselves back out without a droid's intervention. If Luke and Vader needed their help, they would comm them for it. Until then, she advised, the best thing they could do to aid the two men was to stay put and ensure their ships were ready to fly.

Satisfied that she had talked sense into her comrade, she turned around and headed back to the Angel.

Artoo had had enough, however. Sure, Midnight could be calm and sensible about this. She didn't know the Skywalkers like he did. To her, they were just the latest in a long string of humans whose orders she followed to the letter. Artoo, however, was fiercely loyal to the two men, and if either of them came to any harm… he wouldn't let himself process that theoretical data.

He charged the other astromech, clanging roughly against her and knocking her down. Stunned, she stared up at Artoo with a single yellow photoreceptor as he proceeded to tell her off. She may not think it their responsibility to watch over the two Jedi, he said angrily, but in his opinion a droid did everything possible to protect his or her master, even if it went against orders or normal programming. And if she just wanted to sit here and clean hyperdrive engines while the Sith kicked the Skywalkers around, fine, but she wasn't going to hold him back from going to help.

Firing a magnetic tow cable, he hauled Midnight back to her feet. Then he turned and headed for the fortress.

Midnight gave a droning sigh and trailed after him, uttering a string of moaning complaints as she went.

_Break…_

Luke watched the unfolding duel with growing horror. Kain couldn't kill his father! He refused to accept that possibility! But the longer he watched, the more he realized that, without Luke's aid, Vader would likely lose this battle. For all his years of training, Vader couldn't match the brutal ferocity that fueled his opponent.

Vader parried a blow, struck… and recoiled with a sharp shout of pain as Kain's blade bit into the flesh of his left shoulder. Charred cloth gaped open to reveal the blackened line of the wound.

"Father!" Luke cried.

Palpatine laughed all the harder. "There is no escaping it, Skywalker. Your father thought he could abandon the Order, but there is no escape from the power of the dark side. All Sith who leave the Order eventually meet the same fate… destruction."

Luke seethed with anger – toward Palpatine, toward Kain, toward an Order that delighted in the pain and suffering of others, toward the whims of fate for separating the two of them in the first place. He gripped his saber all the while, staring at the laser wall, wishing he were on the other side, fighting at his father's side. The barrier could only be a fraction of a millimeter thick… but it might as well have been a meter of solid stone.

Kain lunged again, and this time Vader blocked the strike with relative ease. The Sith hissed and brought his free arm up, blades extended. Vader ducked the swinging arm and retaliated with a feinting strike to the legs. Kain didn't fall for the diversion but moved swiftly to parry the slash to his stomach.

"You'll just stand there, Skywalker, and let your father die?" inquired Palpatine.

Luke stared at the tyrant, outraged. Didn't he think Luke would do something if he could only get past the barrier?

The Emperor shook his head as if disappointed. "You've truly gone the way of the old Jedi Order, then? Abandoning your very family for the sake of some laughable greater good?"

Luke wanted to break the old corpse's teeth and a few choice bones as well, but he resisted. Palpatine was provoking him, trying to goad him into reacting foolishly. He couldn't allow himself to act rashly, to give the dark side opportunity to take root…

From the opposite side of the laser wall came a flash of scarlet, a startled cry, a triumphant cackle…

"FATHER!"

Vader clutched the smoking stump of his bionic right arm, sheared off to the elbow. Kain laughed again, a cold wicked laugh that seemed to cloud the very air around him as he raised his weapon for the fatal blow.

Luke lost his grip on his fear and anger, and both emotions stormed through him like a cold black fire. He flung out one arm, and his lightsaber skittered across the floor and flew into his hand. Extending his senses, he located the mechanisms that produced the laser wall and crushed them to rubble with the Force.

There was no room for thought now – only cold, deadly instinct.

Kain glanced up, startled, as Luke charged at him, weapon held high, a look of merciless determination on his face. For the first time, Luke could feel a hint of fear bleeding from the Sith's mind. Vader, too, stared at him, utter horror in his posture and thoughts.

The last might have stayed Luke's hand, but Kain blasted a stream of Force lightning into his father's chest, flinging him aside like a rag doll. Vader fell to the shard-littered floor and was still.

Luke screamed, throwing all his strength into a slash that Kain deflected only with difficulty. Even through the chrome-visored mask Luke could read his opponent's fear, and he took an irrational pleasure from that. He bore his teeth and struck again.

The room flashed and strobed with light, azure and crimson blades raining sparks as they hammered away at each other, the polished steel floor and gleaming crystals reflecting the light a thousand times over like a rainbowed fire. Again and again Luke and Kain lunged, struck, parried, feinted, their footwork flawless as they moved in a deadly, frenzied dance. All around them the Force pulsed and screamed as it ebbed and flowed through the two men.

Luke swore under his breath. He was making no headway in this battle. He needed a distraction.

The table lay on its side amidst some broken shelving a few meters behind Kain, two of its legs bent at strange angles. That would serve nicely.

He reached out with the Force and blasted the table at Kain with all his mental strength. The Sith staggered and fell to his knees as the projectile struck him a heavy blow to the shoulders. Luke raised his saber for the final cut…

"NO!"

A rod of green energy caught his blade as it fell. Startled, both Luke and Kain turned to stare at Vader, who'd struggled to his feet and blocked the blow at the last minute.

"Luke," Vader said in a voice distorted with pain and fear, "don't! It's what they want you to do!"

Luke stared at his father, the fury that had filled him moments before evaporating. His father was a mess, smoke rising from his scorched robes, his right hand totally gone, his left hand trembling as it stayed Luke's weapon… but he was bound and determined to keep his son from killing the man who had caused him so much pain.

He stared at Kain now, suddenly sickened by what he had almost done. In killing Kain in anger and fury, he would have succumbed to the dark side. Obi-wan had warned him of this… and he'd nearly let him down. Shame filled him, and he backed away.

"Good!" Palpatine applauded, entering the room and clapping, unable to contain his glee. "You've discovered the power of the dark side, Skywalker."

Luke gazed up at the Emperor, realization striking. So he'd wanted this. He'd wanted Luke to kill Kain. He didn't care if he lost his apprentice… so long as he gained Skywalker's soul.

"Now unleash your anger," the Emperor urged. "Strike Kain down and take his place – your rightful place – at my side."

Kain stared at his master, hot fury and shock pouring off of him like a dark energy. Vader extinguished his blade and stepped back, waiting for Luke to make his decision.

But Luke had decided before Palpatine had even made the offer.

"Never," he replied, thumbing his blade off and clipping the saber to his belt. "I'll never join the dark side."

Palpatine's smile wavered, then vanished altogether.

"You've failed, your Highness," he told him. "I am a Jedi, like my father before me."

Vader's hand gripped his shoulder. /You frightened me badly, my son./

/It won't happen again, Father. I promise you./

Palpatine's face was twisted into an expression of utmost fury. "Fools. Fools the pair of you. Don't you know what I can offer you? Look around you. There is power here, glory, the eternal strength of the dark side. Don't you know what I can give you?"

"Yes," Vader replied. "We know. And that is why we reject all you offer us."

Lightning exploded from Palpatine's hands. Vader shoved Luke to the floor as the tendrils of electricity slammed into the walls, splintering shelves and causing Holocrons to rain down and shatter. The shelving – wooden, to the Sith's disadvantage – burst into flames almost instantly, making the entire room glow with golden light as if purging it of darkness.

Vader hauled Luke to his feet and dragged him out the Archive doors.

"Luke," he breathed, his voice trembling with emotion, "I thought I was going to lose you."

"Father…" Luke fell into his father's arms, embracing him. Knowing he had almost allowed himself to be seduced by the power of the dark side, knowing he had nearly suffered the same fate as his father… it was too much to take. He vowed to never make that same mistake again.

Vader's comm beeped.

"Who in the galaxy…" he muttered, pulling the unit from his belt. "Vader."

Hysterical beeping issued from the comm. Luke wondered if the unit was malfunctioning, but Vader, who knew Binary better than Luke, understood what was going on.

"Artoo's WHAT?"

Midnight continued to rant.

"There's no self-destruct to this place!"

More computerized babble.

"Must have been newly installed. All right, go ahead, but tell him to hold off until we're out of the fortress," Vader ordered. "I'll comm you when the time's right." He switched off the comm. "Artoo and Midnight somehow managed to get in. They've hacked into the computers and are working on breaking the code to the self-destruct."

"Smart droids," Luke replied.

Vader leveled a stern eye upon his son. "For all you put me through back there, I should ground you. But I'll save lectures for later. Follow me."

An explosion of dark power flooded their senses, followed by a blast of mortal agony.

"What was that?" demanded Luke.

"Either Kain attacked his master, or vice versa," Vader replied. "As you saw, loyalty is not a strong trait of the Sith."

"I gathered that," Luke said dryly as they ran down the corridor.

The dark side pulsed all around them, screaming in outrage. Pain continued to pound their senses, and Luke felt a sudden surge of emotion. Something urged him to go back to the Archives, but he couldn't explain it.

"I'm going back."

"Luke!" Vader shouted, but Luke was already gone, disappearing down a side hallway to avoid a dangerous encounter with whatever Sith had survived the encounter.

Lightning struck the wall just behind Vader.

"Stang," he hissed, and he kept up his flight. "Luke, please don't be stupid."

_Break…_

The Archives were a total loss now. Shelves were collapsing in showers of sparks, interrupting the crackling rumble of flames with the jangling crash of shattering crystal. Kain struggled to his feet, his wrath an inferno that matched his surroundings.

The Emperor's face was a mask of fury, and lightning sparked from his fingertips in his rage. He turned to Kain and addressed him in a voice cold with fury.

"Go, my apprentice," he ordered. "Destroy them."

Kain didn't move.

"Go!" Palpatine roared. "Destroy them!"

Kain found his voice. "No."

"Kain, don't backtalk me!" Palpatine screamed.

But Kain was through with taking orders. His master had promised him power, vengeance, the opportunity to avenge the death of his father. He had willingly joined the Sith cause, submitted to the transfusions to obtain the power of the Force, and unquestioningly obeyed the Emperor's every order. He had fulfilled his end of the bargain. And the Emperor had repaid him by willingly sacrificing him to Skywalker's whim.

"You lied to me," Kain hissed. "You would have let Skywalker kill me."

"Is it my fault that you had the chance to destroy him and couldn't?" Palpatine retorted. "Now is your chance, Kain. Now go!"

"You've used me all along!" Kain hissed in realization. "I was just part of your plot to get Skywalker to join your cause! You've played me for a fool all this time!"

Palpatine's eyes flashed in anger. "You fool. You would have made it easier for the dark side to triumph, but it will go on without your aid."

With a scream of hatred Kain ignited his saber and sprang, intent on cleaving the living corpse in two. Palpatine ignited his own weapon and was able to block the blow, but he did so gracelessly, with the jerky movements of one who hadn't raised a saber in some time.

Fire bloomed in his stomach, and he looked down in shock to see a second lightsaber buried in his stomach. The blade pierced his body and seared through his spinal cord, and the sensation in his legs died away as he slumped to the floor.

Palpatine extinguished both blades and stepped away. "The dark side has no place for fools, Boba Fett."

And he turned his back on him and strode away, intent on destroying the two Jedi.

Kain forced himself to breathe, conscious as never before of every muscle in his chest, his torso blazing with agony and his throat and mouth burning with smoke. The fury that had kept him going for years was gone, leaving only pain… and an emptiness that threatened to consume him. He had been betrayed, used and thrown aside…

/Why did I ever agree in the first place? What possessed me to believe that hack? Good stars, what in the galaxy have I done/

Sparks skittered across the floor, landing dangerously close to him. Darkness bled into the edges of his vision. His eyes burned with smoke and tears as he extended a call through the Force. He only had a few minutes to act. Would Skywalker respond?

/If I do one thing right in my life/ he vowed/it will be this./


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The Archives blazed like an inferno from the darkest Hell as Luke staggered inside, coughing as hot fumes and ash seared his mouth and throat, clutching the sleeve of his robe over his nose and lips in an effort to filter out the smoke. Sharks of crystal crunched under his feet, and the air around him seemed to shimmer and tremble with the heat. He blinked burning eyes and crouched low to duck underneath the scorching vapors.

Kain lay in the center of the room, surrounded by shattered Holocrons, his legs smoldering, a saber wound just beneath the tip of his sternum piercing him clear through.

Luke didn't even stop to consider. He knelt beside the fallen Sith, grabbed his cape, and used the cloth for something practical for a change – to smother the flames on Kain's body. He didn't hate Kain anymore. He couldn't. This man, like Vader and so many others before him, had been used, manipulated, and betrayed by Palpatine. Luke couldn't harbor any more anger toward him, not when he had already suffered so much at the hands of the Emperor.

Kain groaned in pain as Luke dragged him into the throne room, out of the dangers of the flaming Archives. Luke reached down to pull off his helmet, but Kain's grip stayed his hand.

"Don't…" he rasped.

"You'll breathe easier without it," Luke told him.

"No…" he insisted hoarsely. "Even… in death… I have some dignity…" He coughed violently. "My saber…"

The weapon still lay in the next room, glittering in the blaze. Luke hesitated. Just because he had let go of his hate didn't mean he trusted Kain any more. He was still a Sith, and if it was his intention to kill Luke before he passed away…

"Destroy it…" Kain ordered. "Destroy my saber… I want to die… as I was born… I want to die… as Boba Fett… not Darth Kain…"

Luke gestured, and the lightsaber hurled itself toward the wall, shattering into useless fragments.

"Boba Fett," Luke said quietly. "I want you to know that I forgive you for what you've done to me."

Fett struggled to inhale enough air to reply. "Thank you… Skywalker…" He slowly raised a hand and pressed something into Luke's palm.

Luke stared at the gemstone Fett had given him, stunned. It wasn't red, like the Sith Holocrons, but the deepest blue like a bottomless lake. As large as a man's eye and pulsing with an inner energy like a living thing, it was a glimmer of sweet clean light in the overwhelming darkness of the fortress, and it seemed to fill Luke with renewed strength as he held it. What in the galaxy was a Jedi Holocron doing in the Sith headquarters, though? Maybe it was a trophy or spoils gained from the destruction of the Jedi Temple, or maybe Palpatine had used it before the Purges to gather information about his foe.

"You'll need it…" Fett whispered.

"Why are you giving me this, Fett?" asked Luke. "I thought you hated the Jedi. Why the change of heart?"

Fett gripped Luke's arm. "Kill the Emperor…" he snarled weakly. "He betrayed me… used me… and he'll use… you… unless you destroy him…" His grip tightened with the desperation of a man who knew he was doomed but had one last message to impart. "Use what I give you… to destroy the Emperor… and to save your father…" His voice grew even more distant. "Let my father… aid you… use his name…"

Luke stared down at the hunter, trying to comprehend what he was saying.

"Father…" Fett's last words were so faint he could hardly hear them. "Father… I'm so sorry…"

His entire body shuddered, then relaxed, and his feverish grip on Luke loosened. Luke gently folded the man's arms across his chest, then covered him with the cloak as best he could as a sort of makeshift shroud. He couldn't give the man the proper last rites – there wasn't time – but he would make sure Fett's redemption would not go unheard.

/Whatever his destination beyond death may be/ he thought/I pray he'll find peace there./

Wrapping the Jedi Holocron securely in a torn-off section of his robe sleeve, he pocketed the precious bundle and stood. He pulled his lightsaber from his belt and ran back for the corridor, ready for battle. He had to find his father at all costs, before the droids could activate the self-destruct.

Father… Fett's father… use his name… that was it!

_Break…_

If Midnight didn't shut up soon, Artoo was going to knock her down again. He'd just about had enough of her complaints and paranoia.

It had been simple enough to get past the droideka guards at the fortress gate – they were programmed to stop biological intruders, not droids. It had been even easier to plug himself into the nearest computer jack and hack into the central computers of the fortress. Slicing through the security code… that was something else. But Artoo enjoyed a challenge, and he tried out various combinations of letters and numbers, waiting for something to click.

Midnight shrieked again. Her auditory receptors had picked up an intrusion! They were about to be discovered!

Artoo told her to stuff a 'spanner in it and kept working. His sensors had already picked it up; he knew about whatever it was.

The intruder rolled into view – a short, squat, tank-shaped maintenance droid. He gave Midnight a self-satisfied blat before trying a few more numeral sequences. No numbers were registering in the code. It must be a simple password. He ditched numbers entirely and tried random letter sequences.

Midnight screamed electronically. Artoo whirled his dome to see doors open up on either side of the maintenance droid, unfurling blasters that pointed directly at the two astromechs. Evidently the Sith preferred housekeeping droids with attitudes.

Artoo disengaged from the computer jack and turned to face the droid.

Midnight gave an incredulous exclamation. He wasn't planning on fighting the thing, was he?

/You bet I am/ he processed without actually vocalizing it.

He charged forward with a long, loud electronic battle cry. The maintenance droid, not having the most up-to-date logic processor on the market, couldn't compute why a mere astromech would be initiating a charge and just watched, stumped, as Artoo slammed into it, his circular saw shearing through one blaster-arm before it could squeeze off a round.

Midnight watched, silent for once, but quietly impressed.

_Break…_

Vader was trapped.

Palpatine had herded him deftly into this chamber, controlling his flight with well-placed blasts of lightning, blocking off possible escape routes with Force-sparked ceiling collapses. The room he'd finally ended up in had no exits other than the door he'd come through, and he didn't dare fight past the Emperor in his wounded, weakened condition.

/I'm dead/ he realized.

Surprisingly, the realization that he was going to meet his end here didn't frighten him in the least. An odd feeling of peace filled him. He was redeemed of his crimes. Never mind what the Emperor's ghostly illusions had told him; he had done penance for his years as a Sith. If Palpatine killed him today, he would die without regrets, without fear.

/I love you, Luke/ he sent. /Don't come back for me. Get out of the fortress and give Artoo the go-ahead. We'll meet again beyond the veil. I'm sure of it./

Before Luke could reply, the Emperor entered the room, an expression of absolute hatred on his face.

"How ironic," the tyrant mused. "Look at the room you have chosen as your deathbed, Vader."

He didn't need to look around to know where he was. This was the closest thing the Sith bastion had to a medbay – what he had irreverently referred to as a younger man as the Torture Chamber. Here he had lain after his fateful duel with Obi-wan on Mustafare, blinded and screaming with agony, the pain of his burns equal only to the pain of the surgical droids' instruments as they cut away scorched tissue, amputated what was left of his mangled legs, and invaded his body to repair his internal organs. He'd pleaded with his master for an anesthetic of any kind, but Palpatine had insisted that a Sith felt no pain, and if he desired to inherit the title of apprentice he would endure the operation without drugs.

"I saved your life here," Palpatine sneered, stepping forward, his fingers caressing the hilt of a lightsaber in one hand. "I snatched you from the jaws of death and made you stronger than any Jedi could ever hope to be. And now, here, I will destroy you once and for all. Fitting, isn't it?"

"You have it backward," Vader replied. "You destroyed me that day. You killed Anakin Skywalker and from his remains assembled a monster, a creature to obey your whims and slink in your footsteps like a twisted warlock's familiar." He gestured to his chest, a chest that no longer bore the control panel of Vader, one that, scars aside, might belong to any man in the galaxy. "But the Darth Vader you created died in combat at Yavin. My son killed the monster along with your Death Star, and from his ashes I was born."

"You're not Anakin Skywalker," hissed Palpatine. "You'll never again be Anakin Skywalker!"

"I will never again be the Jedi Knight who you sought to corrupt decades ago," Vader acknowledged. "But neither will I ever again be your right-hand man. I am Anakin Skywalker… and Darth Vader. I am a Jedi Knight… and a reformed Sith. I am, above all, the Chosen One, and I will never again submit to your whim."

Lightning leaped from the Emperor's hand, striking the left side of Vader's helmet. Shards of black metal rained down on the stone floor. Vader didn't flinch.

"You can't destroy me," Vader went on. "Strike me down, and I'll become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."

The Emperor struck again, and the right side of Vader's helmet shattered, this time taking a fragment of the mask with it. His exposed cheek burned with the heat of the electric blast.

"Hold your tongue," snarled the Emperor, "or your arms are next."

"If you haven't noticed, I no longer care what you do to me," Vader replied. "Anything further you do to me will be as useless as beating a dead bantha. Kill me, or torture me, or whatever you elect to do. I am beyond caring."

"Oh, you'll start caring, I promise you," Palpatine hissed in a tone of deranged fury. "I have ways to inflict pain that are beyond your pathetic imagination…"

"Father!"

The two men turned to face the door, startled.

"Ah, and young Skywalker has joined the fray," the Emperor snickered. "Do you plan on fighting me to spare your father? If you haven't noticed, he's already given up. So stand aside while I finish him off, and you won't get hurt."

"Luke, run!" Vader ordered. "Get out now!"

Luke ignored both men's orders. "Your Highness, I'll join the dark side!"

"Luke, no!" Vader screamed. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up," Palpatine barked. "Really, young Skywalker? Why the change of heart?"

Luke made eye contact with his father as if trying to impart a message, then turned back to the Emperor. "Don't hurt him anymore. Please. I'll join the Sith and become your apprentice if you just let me talk to him for a few minutes."

"No!" Vader shouted. What in the galaxy had possessed his son? Had Kain turned him in his final moments? Had his brush with the dark side in the Archives irrevocably corrupted him? Was his vision to come true?

"Deal," the Emperor said with a disgusting smile. "I'll give you one minute, starting now."

_Break…_

Midnight finished dismantling the incapacitated maintenance droid while Artoo kept tinkering with the self-destruct. She had to admit, Artoo had acted bravely, if a little recklessly. No wonder he liked the Skywalkers so much – he shared their personality.

Artoo, meanwhile, had hit a snag. The password wasn't a random series of letters, evidently. It had to be an actual name or word. But what name would a Sith use? He tried to process his thoughts like a Sith, reviewing all he knew about the Order – which was a lot, considering he liked to slice into the Rebellion's information banks from time to time and help himself to whatever information looked interesting, especially that which related to the Clone Wars.

SIDIOUS, he tried. No go.

TYRANUS. Nothing.

MAUL. No effect.

VADER, he attempted. DURGE. VENTRESS. BANE. WESSEL. POGGLE. DOOKU. GRIEVOUS. He tried every name he knew to be somehow connected to the Sith. Nothing was clicking.

Midnight chirruped. Was he getting any closer? He beeped negatively and kept going.

TARKIN. THRAWN. LAAMA. HAAKO. GUNRAY. DOFINE. What was he doing wrong?

His comm beeped. He answered with an irritated whistle.

"Sorry to interrupt you, Artoo, but have you figured out that code yet?" asked Luke.

Artoo gave a negative beep.

"Try a name. I think the code word's the name of a Mandalorian, specifically Boba Fett's father."

Mandalorians! Of course! According to Clone War records, a bounty hunter and former Mandalorian named Jango Fett had worked for Dooku/Tyranus as an assassin and general go-fer, not to mention the genetic base for the cloned stormtroopers. The records made no mention of a son, but then, how many Fetts could there be in the galaxy?

JANGO, he entered.

Something deep inside the fortress seemed to rumble to life. Artoo realized what he'd just done and shrieked, scrambling frantically to deactivate the self-destruct.

"No, let it run its course!" Luke shouted. "How long before it goes off?"

It took a few seconds to pin that down. He relayed the time to Luke – two minutes fifty-two seconds and counting.

"That should be long enough. You and Midnight get out now. Vader and I'll be all right. See you outside."

Artoo shut off the connection and headed for the door, Midnight close on his heels.

_Break…_

The minute the Emperor agreed to Luke's deal, he raced forward to embrace his father. Not that he trusted any deal of Palpatine's – in fact, he knew the Sith had no intention of keeping his end of the bargain.

That was okay. Luke had no intention of keeping his end either.

Vader hugged Luke close. "Luke," he murmured in his ear, "don't do this. I'm not worth your soul. Please…"

"I'll never join the dark side," Luke assured him. He pressed the Holocron into his father's palm. "Extend the Force. See what I've got."

Together they accessed the Holocron, delving into its layers and levels. The Jedi who had kept this record hadn't recorded his or her name, but had filled the crystal with the secrets of the Force… some of which had been lost to the Jedi Order even in Vader's day. Luke located the information that had most attracted his interest when scanning the Holocron and called his father's attention to it.

/Artoo and Midnight have set off the self-destruct/ he told his father. /When it goes off, meld your powers with mine. Together, we can generate an energy field to shield ourselves from the blast. We probably won't escape completely unscathed, but we'll survive./

Vader's hand tightened around his. /Forgive me for doubting you, Luke./

/Seeing me nearly turn back in the Archives, I can understand how you'd suspect the worst./

"Time's up, Skywalker," the Emperor announced. "Now come and take your place at my side."

Luke released his father from his arms, but he kept a firm grip on his hand, keeping the Holocron sandwiched between their palms and out of Palpatine's sight. Together, side by side, they faced the last of the Sith.

"My apprentice," the Emperor said, an exultant expression on his face, "do as I command. Step forward and take your rightful place at my side."

Luke raised his head proudly. "There is no ignorance," he quoted. "There is knowledge."

His triumphant expression wavered. "What?"

"There is no passion," Vader added, drawing himself up straight. "There is serenity."

"Stop that," the Emperor snarled, his smile vanishing altogether.

"There is no chaos," Luke continued. "There is order."

"Shut up!" the Emperor howled.

"There is no death," Vader went on. "There is the Force."

The floor beneath their feet trembled. Too late the Emperor realized what was going on.

Vader's hand tightened on Luke's. Together, they chanted the last stanza of the Code – a stanza that marked the death of the Sith Order and the birth of the New Jedi Order, a stanza that forever abolished the "no emotion" precept of the Code and restored the ultimate power to the Jedi.

"There is no despair; there is love."

The entire fortress seemed to scream in an extremity of pain as the generator core within its heart deliberately overloaded. A blossom of flame swelled outward, shoving such puny barriers as walls and support beams aside in its efforts to expand ever wider. Ceilings rushed down to meet floors, pillars buckled and shattered like dry twigs, stone and steel and ferrocrete and flame reached up into the black night like a glowing hand struggling to touch the stars.

The death cry of the Sith stronghold was a rumble of falling rock and a shock wave of energy that swept the stony plain, knocking over the two astromechs and making the starfighters rock dangerously in place.

In his final agonies, Palpatine knew a rage and desperation beyond all reason, and he used the last of his power to thrust out at the Skywalkers, determined to the very end to have his retribution.

Within the energy field the Jedi had produced, Vader felt an invisible fist penetrate the barrier and strike him with the force of a comet, and he lost his grip on Luke and fell backward, out of the field's protective perimeter.

_Break…_

Light years away, in the midst of a huge celebration feast on a forest moon, Leia collapsed, intense pain searing her nerves and mind.

"Leia!" Han, who had been watching the combined Rebel-Ewok-Gungan victory party with amusement, bent anxiously to help Leia up.

"Luke," she gasped. "Father…"

"They're not…" Han began, but he couldn't get the words out.

"They're not dead," she said, still reeling. "But they're hurt… one of them very badly…"

He hauled her to her feet. "Get Forenze and Chewie. We're going to Byss."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The Falcon and its accompanying Rebel shuttle touched down a hundred meters from the ruins of the Sith fortress. Almost before the gangplanks could be fully lowered, search parties poured from both ships and sped toward the destroyed building. Luke and Vader were both very popular among the members of the Alliance, and hundreds had volunteered to accompany Han and Leia to Byss to rescue the two men.

En route to the ruins, Piett heard a plaintive mechanical whimper, and he halted a moment to aid two astromechs in getting to their feet. One of the greatest weaknesses an R2 unit possessed was that, once they fell down, it was almost impossible for them to get back up without aid.

"Whatever happened to you two?" he asked, not really expecting an answer he could understand.

The first droid, a jet-black unit, gave a shuddering drone, as if it had just experienced something incredibly traumatic. The second, a blue and white unit, didn't answer but shot toward the ruins, intent on helping in their search for its missing master.

"That's odd," noted Piett aloud, watching the astromech go. "I've never seen such devotion in a droid before."

"Yes, but we came here to rescue the Skywalkers, not droids," Jerjerrod told him, stepping aside to let a heavy labor droid go by. "Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader's son… who would have guessed?"

"Who would have guessed we would be joining the Rebel Fleet and flying a B-wing against the Death Star someday?" Piett retorted.

"True," Jerjerrod acknowledged. "I… must thank you… for convincing me to go with you."

"No problem, old friend," Piett replied.

They stepped out from behind the Skywalker's fighters and stared a moment at the remains of the fortress, awed. Though neither man could lay a claim to any Force sensitivity, they were still struck by the profound feeling that a great evil lay dead here, like a slain dragon or a toppled statue after a revolt. Remnants of one wall stood starkly against the scarlet-gold of sunrise, a ragged tombstone. Support beams and pillars jutted from the broken rock like shattered, exposed ribs. Here and there the rising sun caught a fragment of metal or crimson crystal, making the ruins glitter with scarlet like pools of blood. If the two men had harbored any doubt that the Empire was dead, it was erased now.

"Well," Jerjerrod said with a nonchalance he certainly didn't feel, "not going to do any good just standing around, are we?" He clapped Piett's shoulder and strode toward the collapsed fortress.

Piett shook his head and walked after Jerjerrod. "I can't believe we used to serve… this."

"I know," Jerjerrod replied. "But we fight for a better cause now."

The blue astromech halted and squealed for their attention, rocking back and forth.

"What is it…" began Piett, but then he spotted what the droid had found. He thumbed on his comm unit. "We've got a body here! Darth Kain, negative life signs. It must have been thrown clear of the fortress by the explosion."

Jerjerrod stared at the Sith's corpse, stunned. A mere week ago he had thought it impossible for Kain to be killed. To see his dead body now… it was almost more of a shock than watching the Death Star explode.

"Keep searching," Piett advised his friend. "Just because he's gone doesn't mean we're quit of our obligation to find Luke and Vader."

"Let's just hope they're in better shape than him," Jerjerrod muttered.

_Break…_

"I'm getting life readings in this quadrant," announced Wedge, looking up from his handheld scanner. "Pretty strong too."

Rogue Squadron fanned out, searching the area. They kept on their toes; High Command had impressed upon them that if Luke and Vader could survive the destruction, there was a good chance the Emperor may also be still alive.

"Wedge!" shouted Janson. "I found something!"

"What is it?" asked Wedge, jogging over to where his friend stood, careful to avoid tripping over the jagged rubble and injuring himself.

Janson gestured gravely.

Wedge suppressed the urge to gag. A body had been uncovered by one of the labor droids, but it was so badly charred it was unrecognizable.

"You don't think…" Janson said worriedly.

"It can't be," Wedge insisted, bending down to search the corpse. "It's definitely not Vader, it's too short… yes!" He pried a lightsaber out of the scorched fingers and flicked it in. "Red blade, for one thing, and it's not designed like Luke's. It's the Emperor!"

Janson's smile was more of relief than of joy. "Then he's really dead. It's finally over."

"Wedge, we found him!" came Ar'ya's shout. "Drache and I found Luke! He's going to be okay!"

They turned to see the two women carefully lift their unconscious Commander onto a stretcher. A rush of relief flooded his veins. Luke was injured, but not seriously. He'd make a full recovery.

"Any sign of Vader yet?" he asked.

"Not yet," replied Drache.

Wedge kept walking, sweeping his scanner back and forth. All the volunteers scouring the ruins made it difficult to make an accurate reading of the area. He just hoped he would be able to recognize Vader's signal and not walk right past him.

He gave a little chuckle as he kept going. It had been Leia who had informed the Alliance that Vader was Luke's father… and hers. Years ago he would not have thought such a thing possible. But then, much had changed since then…

His scanner chimed again. The instrument had detected a life form deep beneath the rubble – a faint signal, but still a signal.

He dropped the scanner and began clawing at the rock beneath him, forgetting to don his gloves in his haste. His hands were soon scratched and bloody with his efforts, but he refused to slow down. His frantic efforts soon attracted the attentions of others.

"Wedge!" Leia exclaimed, stooping beside him and helping him roll back a particularly large boulder.

"Your Highness, don't hurt yourself…" Wedge advised.

"My father's under there!" she replied fiercely.

More volunteers joined him – Han, Chewbacca, Forenze, Zev, Rocky, Mela, and others. At last Han and Ar'ya lifted a battered slab of steel floor plating to reveal Vader's body from the chest up.

Wedge inhaled sharply. Vader's mask was badly damaged. His breath was little more than a weak wheeze, and his neck was bent at an odd angle. He felt sick at the sight. How under the stars had he managed to survive this long? By all odds, he should have been dead hours ago.

Forenze was the first to act, kneeling at the Second Commander's side and fitting a neck brace over his throat.

"Get the med squad, Antilles," she ordered roughly. "I don't want him moved any more than absolutely necessary."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.

_Break…_

Luke had wanted to be there at his father's side while he was undergoing treatment, but Forenze wouldn't allow it. She understood his concern, but she couldn't permit any unauthorized personnel in the operating room. She did promise him the opportunity to visit him the moment they had him stabilized.

He'd spent the last four days in the guest lounge of the medical cruiser, his head bandaged and his left arm in a sling. The staff called him lucky – the concussion and broken limb had been his worst injuries. But Luke would have gladly traded positions with his father. Vader had undergone enough physical damage in his life. He didn't need this on top of it all.

Han and Leia had spent much of the time in here with Luke, with Chewie and the Rogues stopping by occasionally to talk or bring meals. Little was said – but there was little to say anyway.

The morning of the fifth day of their vigil, Forenze emerged from the medbay, looking exhausted. The audience in the lounge consisted of Luke, Han, Leia, Chewie, and Mon Mothma, who had stopped by to offer her condolences for the Skywalker's ordeal.

"How is he?" asked Luke hesitantly.

She tried to evade the question. "Not good."

"Spit it out, birdbeak," Han advised. "How good's not good?"

She gave Luke a look of profound sympathy, and he immediately wished Han had not pressed the issue. Forenze was not without compassion – far from it – but neither was she given to instilling false hope in her patients or their families. She spoke with blunt and even brutal honesty, and when asked a patient's condition, she wasted no breath on sugar-coated half-truths or outlandish predictions.

"He's paralyzed from the shoulders down."

Luke collapsed on himself, doubling over and shaking with emotion. How could this have happened? He'd tried to protect his father during the explosion… yet he'd somehow fallen out of the protective shield. And now, he was almost worse than dead.

Leia embraced him tightly, tears flowing down her face. He leaned against her, taking some strength from her presence.

"What can you do for him?" asked Mothma quietly.

"He's suffered massive internal trauma in addition to the neck fracture," Forenze replied gravely. "We'll have to treat those injuries first – and they're pretty damned serious. Once he's out of danger, we'll begin physical therapy. He may retain some use of his hands."

"Will he walk?" asked Leia.

Forenze took a deep breath. "That remains to be seen. Part of that depends on how severely damaged his spinal cord was. The body cannot regenerate lost nerve cells, and we have yet to successfully clone or regenerate nerve tissue. But if the spinal cord wasn't torn too badly, he might retain some control over his limbs." She closed her eyes. "But to be perfectly honest, I don't think he'll ever walk again."

"Don't say that," Han snapped. "He'll lick this! He's licked everything else that's come his way! He always has! You're a doctor, can't you do something to fix him?"

"There's nothing more I can do, Solo," she replied firmly. "Nothing. I. Can. Do. If there were a treatment option open to us, however risky, I'd pursue it. But there isn't." Her voice softened. "You can go see him now, Luke, but I advise against it. He looks pretty bad."

"I don't care," Luke replied hoarsely, getting to his feet. "I have to see him."

"I'm going with him," Leia added, taking Luke's hand.

"Typical Skywalkers," muttered Forenze. "Follow me."

Forenze had been correct in saying Vader looked bad, but that still left Luke unprepared for what he saw. Vader was maskless, motionless, surrounded by so many monitors there was hardly room for Luke and Leia to sit by his side. His face, naked to the world for the first time in so many years, was white and sickly, with dark eye sockets and deep, disfiguring scars marring the features. A small oxygen mask and breathing tube, a fragile-looking lifeline, obscured his mouth. His scarred body was streaked with new burns inflicted by Kain's lightsaber and Force lightning. Leia gasped in shock and sympathy. Fresh tears flowed from Luke's eyes upon seeing his father, looking so weak, so helpless…

"Mask was pretty much shot," Forenze said in her gruffest voice, which meant the sight cut her as deeply as it did the others. "We'll work on a replacement." She turned away. "Stang, there should be a law keeping doctors from treating their friends…"

The door shut, leaving Luke and Leia alone with their father.

/Children./ Their father's touch in the Force felt exhausted, filled with pain, yet grateful for their presence.

/Father…/ Luke fell to his knees beside the bed and clutched one limp hand, sobbing. /This is my fault/

/Don't talk that way, my son/ Vader chided. /This is none of your doing./

/If I hadn't gone back to the Archives…/ Luke protested. /If I hadn't left you alone with the Emperor… if I'd helped you face him down…/

/How could you have not gone, son? You forgave Fett of his crimes. He is redeemed. And if you hadn't been there, you would not have obtained the Holocron – and the means of protecting yourself from the self-destruct. We would have both died./

Leia took his other hand. /I wish I could have been there with you two. I might have been able to help…/

/My sweet Leia, there is nothing that you could have done. And Luke, please stop torturing yourself over this. This is not your fault. Not. Your. Fault. If it's anyone's, it's mine. I should have known that zombie had one more trick up his sleeve./

/Father…/ Luke struggled with what he had to tell Vader. /Forenze says you're paralyzed. She says you'll probably never walk again./

/Yes, I gathered that./ A deep stab of pain, fear, sorrow. Then a sense of acceptance. /But I shall just have to learn to adapt, won't I/

Luke felt a peculiar sensation around his hand, and he looked down. His father's hand was closing slowly around his – just barely, but the movement was there. Beads of sweat stood out on his father's pale skin with the effort, but Luke couldn't have been happier than if he'd just lifted a Dreadnaught.

/I have my children/ Vader said with a burning pride that warmed them all. /That's all I need to be happy./

/Father, I love you/ Leia sent.

/Me too/ added Luke.

/I love you, my children. Now let me rest. I'll need my strength to recover./

/Please, let us stay here/ Luke pleaded.

A mental laugh. /Very well. I could use the company./

For the longest time Luke knelt at his father's side, holding his hand, weeping silently. He didn't care what tomorrow brought, what challenges they would face. All that mattered now was being in his father's presence, imparting a silent hope. If there was any way for Vader to walk again, he was sure he'd find it. After all, they'd accomplished the impossible before.

It may have been the heat in the room, or it may have been that Vader's fatigue was somehow mentally transferred to his children. Whatever the reason, eventually first Leia, then Luke, dropped into a doze.

_Break…_

Luke blinked, puzzled. The light in the med center hadn't been this bright before…

"Luke?"

He turned. "Leia, what is it?"

She looked bewildered. "Where are we?"

"That's a good question."

They were in a chamber reminiscent of a courtroom, paneled in a pale honey-colored wood and suffused with an ethereal light. There was no witness stand or jury box, and the judge's seat was positioned lower than in a normal courtroom. At the moment they were alone, but the murmur of voices indicated that others would soon be entering.

"It's okay," Luke told Leia. "This happened to Father and I once. We shared a vision in the Force through a dream."

The doors swung open, and two familiar figures entered – Qui-gon Jinn… and a lovely woman that Luke remembered only from the faintest of memories.

"Mother?" Leia breathed.

Padme looked up at Qui-gon as if asking permission. He nodded and indicated she could go, and she ran to close the gap between them, hugging Luke to her and crying.

"Luke," she sobbed. "You've grown so much."

Tears fell down his cheeks as he returned the embrace. "Mom…"

Qui-gon allowed the three of them a few minutes for a tearful reunion before he interrupted. "I'm glad you have come, Luke and Leia. But I'm sorry you have to see this."

"See what?" asked Leia.

The doors opened again, and robed figures trickled into the room, talking softly amongst themselves.

/Jedi/ thought Luke with a twinge of alarm – why, he wasn't sure.

A dark-skinned Jedi with a shiny bald head stepped up to the judge's seat, not even glancing at Luke and Leia. Other Jedi passing by gave Luke strange expressions – pride shone in some faces, while others looked at him with suspicion or even outright disgust. He wondered if his and his father's alteration of the Code had ruffled a few feathers.

"Order in the court!" barked a young Jedi Knight, a Tusken, who seemed to be acting as bailiff. "Jedi Master Mace Windu presiding. Everyone please be seated. That includes you too," he added, gesturing toward Luke and Leia.

They took a seat on either side of their mother, with Qui-gon having a seat nearby. Luke was surprised to note Obi-wan and Yoda's presences as well, though they sat a few seats over, conferring between themselves.

"We all know why this meeting has been convened," Mace Windu stated smoothly, letting his brown-eyed gaze sweep the room. "To discuss the actions of Anakin Skywalker, both his crimes against the Order and the galaxy in general and his efforts to correct his damages, and to decide on an appropriate penalty, if applicable." He nodded toward the bailiff. "Bring him in."

Shocked, Luke and Leia turned to look at the doors. The Tusken Jedi strode to the back of the room and escorted a robed man to the front. Luke couldn't take his eyes off the man, an older, sadder, more mature version of himself, who walked with a resolute step and kept his gaze leveled forward at nothing in particular. There was a heavy expression on his face, the expression of one who knew he was about to be heavily punished but was determined to face it bravely.

Luke's gut clenched painfully.

Anakin was on trial.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Anakin stood before Master Windu, keeping his face carefully composed in a neutral expression. He would not let his fear show, not now, not with the entire old Order watching him. How many times had they denounced feeling fear as, if not a crime against the Force, as an irreparable weakness?

He could sense Padme's presence, and the children's. He was grateful for their touch, and yet he mourned that they had to be present. Blast it all, why did they have to see this? They had no part in it. They shouldn't have to be put through this agony because of him.

/Maybe you should have thought of that before you acted/ a sickening voice within whispered.

"Anakin Skywalker," Mace Windu said in a tone devoid of any emotion, "you stand accused of genocide in the first degree and the betrayal of the Jedi Order to the Sith. How do you plead?"

He met Master Windu's gaze without flinching. Even as a defendant in what could never be an entirely fair trial, he had some dignity left.

"How else can I plead? I cannot deny the allegations against me. I am guilty of all you accuse me of."

"Father!" Luke exclaimed, shooting out of his seat.

"Order in this court!" barked the bailiff, whom Anakin recognized as A'Sharad Hett. "Sit down, Skywalker. You'll have your chance to speak."

Luke reseated himself but kept his gaze on Anakin, looking absolutely horrified at what was going on. His heart ached for his son. Anakin would gladly bear whatever punishment the Jedi saw fit to bestow on him, but Luke had no part in this. He shouldn't have to suffer for the sins of his father.

"Thank you, Anakin," Mace told him. "Have a seat."

He took his place beside Luke, who embraced him tightly.

/How could they do this to you/ Luke demanded. /You killed the Emperor. You've served the Rebellion for years. Doesn't that count for something…/

/Quiet, my son. In this room, you can be overheard. We won't be safe to speak like this until after the trial./

Luke scowled a little but obeyed. Anakin couldn't fault him for being annoyed – it hardly seemed fair that private telepathic communication was impossible in the presence of the Jedi.

"Father, why?" Leia whispered. "Why did you plead guilty?"

"Because anything else would have been a lie," Anakin replied. "And I will not add that to my list of crimes."

"Before we decide on an appropriate sentence," Mace went on, "we must take into account Anakin's actions in the past four years. He has attempted to make some restitution for his wrongdoings. The question remains, however – how much has he repaid, and how much remains to be repaid?"

A'Sharad, to Anakin's shock, was the first to speak. "Anakin has lived among my people for nine months, learning their ways and aiding them in escaping the slavery of Jabba the Hutt. He did this to fulfill the terms of the blood debt, to gain absolution from his crimes against the Tusken Raiders. He has repaid that crime and requires no punishment for it."

Anakin nodded gratefully at the young Tusken. A'Sharad had no reason to stand up for him, seeing as they'd been far less than friends in life, but to see him come to his defense…

"Rather than deal with his crimes on a case-by-case basis," Qui-gon Jinn suggested, standing, "why not absolve him entirely?"

One could have heard a pin drop after Qui-gon's suggestion. All eyes rested on the long-haired Master.

"Explain your reasoning," Mace ordered.

"You all know that Anakin is the Chosen One," he responded. "There can be no more denying that. He was prophesied to bring balance to the Force – and he did so in destroying the Sith Order. For that action, an action no other being in the galaxy could have accomplished, I believe he should be granted a full and complete pardon."

A harsh murmur filled the courtroom. Anakin couldn't suppress an amused smile. So like Qui-gon – blunt but compassionate, forthright but merciful.

"Have you gone mad, Master Jinn!" exclaimed Master Plo Koon, standing abruptly. "This man has killed thousands of people and almost single-handedly eradicated our Order! How can a single act, be it prophecy-fulfillment or not, redeem so much bloodshed? I agree that killing the Emperor demands a somewhat lighter sentence, but total absolution? Ridiculous!"

"Repentant he is," Yoda said firmly, his voice overriding the agreeing voices of Master Koon's supporters. "Shown he has that changed his heart has. Shown he has that sincerely regret his actions he does. And in destroying Kain and Palpatine, gained forgiveness he has. No more punishment does he require."

"But was it really his decision to change his heart?" countered Jocasta Nu. "Remember, he lost his memory and, with it, a great deal of his former personality. In my opinion, had he not been involved in that crash, he would never have attempted to make amends."

"And this is relevant how?" demanded Aayla Secura.

"Well, think about it," she went on in a quite reasonable tone, something she'd mastered after spending years in the Jedi Library. "Was it really his decision to turn back? Or was it merely the result of an altered state of mind?"

Despite all his efforts to keep his emotions in check, Anakin couldn't help feeling a rush of indignant anger. "Altered state of mind" indeed! Hadn't it been his decision to renounce the dark side? And if it truly was due to his "altered state of mind," wouldn't he have turned back to his former life upon regaining his memory on Bespin?

"He destroyed the Order," an Ithorian Master he didn't recognize said in a hard voice. "And he and his son had the gall to change the Code to suit their fancy. He deserves some sort of punishment, even if its simply letting him live out the rest of his years in a paralyzed body."

"He would be doing that anyway if we pardoned him," a young human Knight countered. "I say let him live out the rest of his years… without being able to use the Force."

"An appropriate punishment," Ki-Adi-Mundi said in his usual quiet but logical voice. "After all, it is the Force that he betrayed in destroying the Order."

Anakin hung his head and closed his eyes as a multitude of voices rose in agreement.

"What about Luke Skywalker?" demanded Coleman Traebor. "It was also his decision to alter the Jedi Code, not to mention that he's resorted to the dark side on a few occasions. Doesn't he deserve some sort of punishment?"

Anakin cringed. /Please/ he thought desperately/have mercy on Luke. I'll endure whatever you want to do to me, just leave my son alone…/

An irate voice sliced through the tumult, a familiar voice that rasped harshly and brought instant silence.

"You are all – every last one of you – hypocrites!"

All eyes turned toward an armored figure that strode angrily into the courtroom – not the slick black armor of Darth Kain, but the battered gray-green armor of the bounty hunter who had fallen prey to Palpatine's machinations… but redeemed himself in his final moments.

"Boba Fett," Master Windu said, unruffled by the man's accusation, "leave this room at once. You have a trial of your own to be preparing for…"

Fett glared at Mace. "The Jedi Order was the most self-righteous, arrogant, fanatical organization in the galaxy when it existed," he snarled. "I see that none of that has changed in the afterlife." He whirled to glower at the gathered Masters, Knights, and Padawans. "None at all."

"A'Sharad Hett, please remove this man from the courtroom," ordered Mace.

"You've let others argue their piece against the Skywalkers!" Fett retorted, shaking off the bailiff. "Let someone speak for him for a change."

Windu sighed. "Granted. Be quick."

Fett strode to where Anakin sat and turned to face Master Windu, placing a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "I have many issues with the Jedi Order, not the least of which is that you, Your Honor, personally killed my father before my very eyes. I doubt I can ever forgive you for that, but that has nothing to do with this trial. The issue I wish to address is the Jedi's attitude toward the galaxy in general, toward non-Jedi… and toward members of its own Order who express dissatisfaction with the Codes and bylaws of the Order.

"I lived during the Clone Wars. I witnessed firsthand many of its battles. And over and over I saw the Jedi distancing themselves from the very people they professed to protect and shepherd. They claimed to serve the people's best interests, when in reality they had little idea what those interests were. After all, things many considered essentials – like relationships, or family, or personal possessions – were forbidden to a Jedi. Few, if any, could sympathize with a child who had lost his family in a bloody battle, or a farmer whose land was rendered unusable by a biological weapon, or a woman who was forced to watch her true love go off to fight in a battle he would likely never return from.

"I ask you now – how can an Order that has purged itself of emotion and love, that has distanced itself from the very souls it professes to protect and serve, that considers itself above and beyond reproach, call itself the guardians of the galaxy? How can an Order that has never known heartbreak and loss as Anakin has dare judge his reaction to the pain he suffered? And how can they profess to be above hatred and vengeance when their very actions now – placing this man, who nearly died to redeem himself, on trial to satisfy their own egos – seem nothing short of hateful and vengeful?"

The Jedi murmured among themselves, some stung by Fett's accusations, others defiant and angry.

"Even now, you all indulge in the very emotion that you consider to be of the dark side," Fett went on. "You hate Anakin for what he did to you, and you hate me for daring to speak the truth to you. And isn't it telling that those who should hate you for what you are doing now to their family harbor no anger toward you?"

Master Windu raised his hand for silence. "You make a very compelling argument, Fett, which is telling considering you let your hatred toward the Jedi and the Skywalkers define your actions for the past several years."

"I am certainly guilty of that," Fett replied. "But I have let go of my hate. I suggest that the Jedi Order does the same – and no longer seeks to exact revenge upon Anakin Skywalker." He sat down.

"Thank you, Boba Fett." Mace looked around the room. "Is there anyone else who wishes to speak?"

Luke shot to his feet.

"Yes, Skywalker?"

"Fett has a point," Luke said. "How could the Jedi serve the people when they couldn't even identify with their causes, their heartbreaks, their dreams and desires? If a Jedi has never known what its like to lose a loved one, or a home, or a family, how can they truly want to help those who know those losses or are threatened with them?"

"And you believe this justifies your alteration of the Code?" asked Master Windu.

Luke nodded, an unrepentant look on his face. "Yes. A Jedi has every right to know love and family. It's those bonds that strengthen him… and make him able to sympathize with those he serves."

"I second that," Leia said, standing. "Some ask why the galaxy didn't do anything to stop the Jedi Purges. Maybe its because, just as the Jedi couldn't identify with the plights of the non-Jedi, the non-Jedi couldn't identify with the plight of the Jedi. Not to say the Order deserved what it got, but the non-response from the galaxy in general shouldn't have come as a surprise."

Padme stood now. "I loved Anakin with all my heart. I still love him. And no edict of the Jedi is going to change that." She smiled at him warmly. "I do not regret our defiance of the Code, because if we had never wed, Luke and Leia would never have been born… and the galaxy would have been short two of the heroes it so desperately needed."

Obi-wan stood. "Acquit Anakin, my friends and comrades, and let the Jedi Order be born anew. The galaxy is not a constant – it grows and evolves. It's time the Order learned to grow and evolve with it. Then, perhaps, we can avoid an error like the one that led to our destruction."

Anakin couldn't tell if Yoda was standing or not, but it didn't matter – he could still be seen and heard clearly enough. "If punish Anakin we must, let this be it – that serve the Order he must, and for every Jedi he slew, train another in his place he must. If die he does before finished with the task he is, then continue from beyond the grave he must, until met his quota is."

He felt his jaw drop. Making him train over eight thousand Jedi! He wasn't expecting THAT punishment!

Qui-gon was the last to stand. "Even the Jedi are not infallible, as Boba Fett and Luke Skywalker have just reminded us. And if we are allowed our mistakes, perhaps Anakin Skywalker should be allowed his."

Mace Windu nodded gravely, but Anakin thought he could detect a trace of amusement in his eyes. "Then it is decided. Anakin Skywalker, your sentence is as Master Yoda stated, and you will begin serving it once this vision has ended. Court is adjourned."

Jedi began standing and heading for the exit, still talking amongst themselves, bewildered at this turn of events. Anakin felt a heady sense of relief as he stood and embraced first Padme, then his children.

"I was so scared," Leia murmured. "I thought for sure…"

"Even they wouldn't dare disobey Yoda," Anakin assured her. "His voice pulls a lot of weight."

Padme reached up and tenderly brushed Anakin's face. "Ani, I love you. I wish you could stay."

"I love you, my angel," he breathed, kissing her gently. "I will be back."

"I'll be waiting."

Obi-wan stepped forward and embraced Anakin. "Welcome back to the Force, my Padawan."

"Master," he murmured, "forgive me… you deserved better than me…"

"You lost the way for awhile, young one," Obi-wan replied. "But the important thing is that you found your way back, something few have ever done." His mouth quirked in a dry grin. "Besides, I was an old-school Master. How could I identify with a Padawan who'd left behind a mother and a home to follow the Jedi path?" He squeezed Anakin's shoulder. "You will make an excellent Master, young one – not in spite of your past, but because of it."

Fett spoke up. "You saved my life back at the fortress," he said quietly. "I understand you did it more for your son's sake than for mine, but I was still indebted to you." He gave a sharp nod. "We're even now."

Anakin laughed. "You never owed me anything, Fett."

He looked away. "The Jedi will still try me for my actions as a dark sider," he went on. "They don't understand, do they? They've never served the dark side; they can't know that it is slavery, bondage of the worst kind. That doesn't justify it, but still…"

"When the time comes for your trial," Anakin replied, "perhaps I can arrange to speak on your behalf."

Fett shrugged. "I'll be fine. You owe me nothing."

"You helped my son, and you aided me. I do owe you, Fett."

A man in armor similar to Fett's, only silver and blue, appeared at the doorway of the courtroom. He caught sight of the hunter and beckoned to him.

"I have to go," Fett told them. "I have some… explaining… to do to my father." He shook Anakin's hand. "May the Force be with you."

"May the Force be with you," Anakin replied as Fett walked away.

Luke watched him go. "I feel sorry for him."

"He proved himself in the end," Anakin told his son. "That should grant him some sort of reprieve. And I don't think Yoda will let them be too hard on him."

The room around them suddenly became blurred, as if he were viewing it through thick transparisteel. The faces around him faded, noises became muted…

_Break…_

Anakin opened his eyes.

Something had changed. He wasn't sure what, but something was different. It was as if colors were suddenly more vibrant, sounds sharper and more clearly defined, smells enhanced. The pain at the base of his neck, where the vertebra had been shattered, was gone. The constriction in his lungs, the laborious effort of every breath, had vanished. And his arms, his legs…

He sat up, rejoicing in every movement. He lifted his hands – both intact, both flesh and blood – and touched his face. It was whole, smooth, free of scars. He reached up to run his fingers through his hair, to touch his ears and jawline, to grasp the plastic oxygen mask around his mouth and nose and pull it away.

For the first time in over twenty years, he took a breath on his own. Nothing he had ever consumed in his life, no fine wine or delicacy, ever tasted as sweet as that mouthful of air.

Tears ran down his cheeks. The Force had imparted a gift upon him, a sign that it had truly forgiven him of his crimes. It had freed him of his pain and wounds. It had healed him, given him new life. He was whole.

On either side of the bed, Luke and Leia were still asleep, leaning against the bed for support. He reached down and gently placed his hands on their heads. Oh, how he loved his children, their presence, their touch in the Force. How under the stars had he been so lucky to have them restored to him?

The door to his room opened, and Forenze came in, still staring at her datapad.

"You two have probably been in here long enough," she muttered. "Better let your father get some rest…" She looked up.

It must have been a shock for the good doctor to walk into the room of a quadriplegic patient on life support, only to find him sitting up without a mark on him. Anakin couldn't fault her for being startled, but that painful shriek was most uncalled for.

Luke shot up at the sound of Forenze's scream, alert at once. "What's going on…"

"It's all right, Luke," Anakin told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "She was just spooked."

Luke whirled, staring. "Father?"

Leia got to her feet. "How did…?"

Anakin laughed and stood up. "Through the Force, all things are possible." He beamed at his children. "All things… even what others would call completely impossible."

Luke flung his arms around his father. Leia joined in the embrace. He hugged his children tightly to him, letting his love for them flow through their bond in the Force. They returned the emotion, filling him until he thought he would burst.

Forenze managed to get her sputtering under control. "Will somebody PLEASE explain what's going on?"

"All in good time," Anakin told her. He slapped Luke's back good-naturedly. "We have a lot of work to do in the meantime, don't we, son?"

Luke laughed and nodded. "Definitely."


	14. Epilogue

Epilogue

Rio Naberrie's lakeside house wasn't as large or grand as the Senatorial lake retreat Luke's parents had been wed in, but it was still luxurious compared to what Luke was used to – a dusty farm home with a cramped bedroom next to the garage, an icy cavern that he shared with twenty other Rogue pilots, a soggy lean-to that was more often than not also occupied by insects and reptiles…

"It's beautiful," he breathed as he walked through the halls, marveling.

His grandfather, Jobal Naberrie, laughed easily. "Beautiful if you're not the one who has to clean it, boy. You should hear your Uncle Rio's sons carry on…"

"I'm sure they'd rather clean this than dig sand out of vaporators," Luke replied, smoothing his robe front. "Suppose I'd better let you get ready for the wedding. Han and Leia don't want to put it off forever."

Jobal laughed again and leaned heavily on his cane. "First a Jedi-turned-Sith-turned-Jedi-again for a son-in-law, then a pirate for a grandson-in-law… this family's become pretty interesting."

"I'm sure."

Jobal slowly made his way to his room to change. Luke wondered if he should help him, but his grandfather had brushed his efforts off earlier, so he decided to let him enjoy his independence now, while he could.

Leia was in their bedroom, rifling through the dozen or so dresses she had brought with her. She flung a rather pretty-looking aqua number onto the bed and sat heavily down beside it, sighing.

"What's wrong?"

"The dress I wanted flown in from Corusant hasn't arrived," she said, frustrated. "And none of these are what I wanted to wear!"

He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, though really, he didn't see the logic in owning enough outfits to clothe the entire planet yet still not having anything to wear. "Well, what about that white dress you wore last night at dinner? It's nice enough…"

"'Nice enough' doesn't cut it, flyboy," she said in a half-teasing tone. "This is my WEDDING DAY we're talking about…"

"Then perhaps I can be of service," Rio suggested, entering at that moment carrying a plasteel box. He set it down gently on the bed.

"Uncle Rio," she protested, suddenly blushing. "You didn't have to go buy me a dress…"

"I know I didn't have to, so I didn't," he replied, flipping the catch and opening the box.

Inside, carefully folded, was a simple but elegant lace affair, beautiful because of its simplicity rather than in spite of it, and looking almost brand new. Leia gasped and reached into the box, lifting the dress out.

"This is your mother's – my sister's – wedding dress," he explained. "I think… I think she would want you to have it."

Tears in her eyes, Leia embraced Rio. "Thank you."

Luke smiled as he left the room to let Leia change. It had been almost six months since the Battle of Byss and his father's trial. In that time the Alliance – no, the New Republic had fought many more battles, beating back the rogue Imperial forces that sought to retake the galaxy. Though the war was far from over, Luke was confident that, at long last, victory was ensured for the New Republic.

After all, the Emperor was dead, the malignant heart of the Empire had been excised… and the Republic had the advantage of the Jedi Order.

Outside on the expansive patio, the wedding guests were gathering and mingling. But what an odd lot they were – members of Rogue Squadron, Republic leaders, some of Han's old pirating buddies, the Naberrie family, the Gungans of Naboo, even some of his father's Tusken comrades who had wished to honor him and his offspring. Luke had to laugh. Small wonder Jobal had called his family interesting. If it had been Luke's choice of words, he would have opted for "bizarre" or even "insane."

Two men approached Luke at that moment – a Naboo holy man and a Tusken shaman.

"Master Jedi, would you kindly explain to this savage that he is not legally qualified to marry the couple today?" the Naboo holy man asked in a rather irritated tone.

The Tusken hooted something that Luke didn't understand, nor did he want to.

"First of all, sir, Tuskens qualify as intelligent aliens under the Republic Alien Rights Act, so he's technically not a savage," Luke explained. "Second, at a marriage ceremony, a shaman is recognized by the Republic as a justice of the peace. And third, maybe we can have a little teamwork here? Maybe you say a few lines of the vows, then this gentleman says a few lines of his kind's traditional vows, and so forth."

The holy man exchanged a reluctant look with the Tusken, who understood some measure of Basic and was as unsure about the matter as his competitor.

"Very well," he said at length. "We're ready when the betrothed are."

Luke laughed a little and walked away to find Han.

_Break…_

Anakin stood back a little ways from the rest of the wedding guests, watching a Gungan child introduce a wary young Tusken to the shore of the lake. The poor Sandperson had never seen so much water in his life and was more than a little unsure of approaching the great body. But the Gungan was persistent, and soon the two of them were splashing and laughing gleefully – much to the distress of their parents, who'd no doubt dressed them in their finest garments for this occasion.

His gaze slid away from the children and toward a knot of robed beings, ranging in age from eight to forty-two and coming from all corners of the galaxy. Seven of them, two human, one Twi'leck, two Wookie, one Tusken, and one Gungan – the first Padawan learners of the New Jedi Order. He loved these students like his own children, and it filled him with pride to see them learn and grow under the careful eye of their masters.

/Seven down/ he thought irreverently. /Seven thousand nine hundred and ninety-three to go./

"Credit for your thoughts," Forenze said, coming to stand beside him. She had let her crest grow back out, and she wore a fashionably-cut amber gown that Anakin thought complimented her eyes quite nicely.

"We've come a long way, haven't we?" he asked.

"Naboo's not that far from Tatooine space-wise," she replied. "Sure would be a long walk, though…"

"Smart-alek," he accused with a smile.

"Hey, if five years ago someone told me I'd be standing by a maskless Darth Vader watching his daughter get married, I'd offer to examine their head for them."

"And if five years ago someone told me I'd be back on Naboo, a Jedi Knight and honorary Tusken, talking to an alien Rebel, I'd probably have them demoted for insubordination or worse."

She arched an eyebrow. "That's all I am? An alien Rebel?"

"No, Forenze." He took her hand in his. "You're far more. You were the first person to befriend me when I came into the Rebel Base. You have been a friend and confidant, and you've saved my life several times. You're far more than just an alien Rebel."

She flashed him a challenging grin. "Life as Jedi has to get pretty lonely, I'll bet."

"It can be."

"And it's dangerous."

"Definitely."

"And you need someone to patch you up after your missions, right?"

"Are you getting at what I think you're getting at?"

"Depends. What do you think I'm getting at?"

"Are you suggesting… another level to this relationship?"

She shrugged. "If you ask, I'd take you up on it in a heartbeat."

He hesitated. Would doing so betray Padme…

But he felt something within him embrace him understandingly. There would always be a place in his heart for Padme. But he would need a companion for the remainder of this life, even if it was as unorthodox as a Fosh medical officer.

"Will you?"

"Of course."

Luke waved at Anakin from the front door of the house, and Anakin gestured that he'd be over in a second. The ceremony would be underway soon. He had to go join the wedding party.

"Go on," Forenze said with a smirk. "Explain to your kids that you went and got engaged on your daughter's wedding day."

Anakin laughed heartily and strode away, joining those gathered by the door and taking Leia's arm in his. Stang, she looked so beautiful in her mother's wedding gown! Han had better count himself lucky to have her as a wife.

Leia reached up and kissed her father's cheek. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome, my dearest," he replied.

Luke, who was serving as best man, took the arm of Forenze, Leia's matron of honor, and the wedding party progressed across the patio to where Han and the holy man and shaman stood, ready to unite the lucky couple forever.

Anakin felt his vision fog over with joyful tears. He finally had what he'd been seeking all along.

Credits

First order of business, of course, is names. Yes, I mixed up the names of Padme's mother and father – I hate R.A. Salvatore's novelization of "Attack of the Clones" and only had the briefest of looks in it for names, and I accidentally got the names confused. But I justify this by saying that I think Jobal is more masculine a name than Ruwee. And yes, I replaced Padme's sister with her brother, Rio (whose name is Spanish for "river"), but who said I had to stick to canon? I certainly didn't when I started this whole series.

Yes, Darth M'kbeth is a nod at Shakespeare's Lady Macbeth. And Sophronia is the name of religious leader Joseph Smith's sister (I'm not making this up).

The Sith fortress draws some inspiration from the Japanese movie "Castle In the Sky," especially the final confrontation between Sheeta and Muzka in the throne room, and from the wizard's towers in Terry Goodkind's "Stone of Tears," though most of it is my own creation. Sorry if my descriptions of Byss and the Holocrons don't entirely jive with canon, but I'm not a big fan of the books.

Thank you everyone for taking the time to read this trilogy. It's been a lot of fun, and it's given me an opportunity to go in a direction I normally don't go. I'm sorry to see it end, but maybe it's time I moved on to other projects.

Onward and upward!


End file.
